Secrets
by ttfan111robstar1
Summary: Rowena MacLeod has fought a silent battle with an eating disorder for centuries without telling a soul. But after a hunt goes awry, her dark secret is revealed. Now she will have to face the consequences for her actions, face the issues that caused it in the first place, find her own path to recovery, and even reconcile with her son along the way. Rated M for dark themes.
1. Preface

_Dear Reader,_

 _It's an absolute pleasure to be back and writing for you all again. I'm very excited to share this story with you all, but before we can begin I felt a need to explain this story in itself._

 _I began this story a few months ago on a day off from work. Something I thought would be an innocent little one shot became much more. I started writing this story and couldn't stop. I wasn't sure why a one chapter story suddenly morphed into two with more in the wings. But I went with it. The first two chapters ended up consolidating into one mega chapter._

 _This story is extremely personal to me. I've battled with an eating disorder for eight years of my life. The numbers on the scale, the number of calories in food, the need to get it out, and the need to not eat at all or eat way too much are all very real. I've heard people laugh when I talk about how afraid I am about gaining weight, but it's no joke. Eating disorders have the highest mortality rate of any mental illness. I've been in treatment with girls who couldn't weigh more than eighty pounds soaking wet._ _ **These disorders can kill you, and they will.**_

 _By no means do I intend to glorify mental illness with this fanfic. In fact, I caution you all right here, right now, that some, if not most of the behaviors illustrated in this story are able to be imitated. But I_ _DO NOT_ _In any way condone or encourage these destructive behaviors. Instead I hope to promote awareness for the deadliness of these diseases, and to hopefully help someone to not make the same mistakes that I made. If you or someone you know is struggling with an eating disorder, please get help. Go to the national eating disorders association (NEDA) website to learn more and get help today._

 _And to my readers who are indeed struggling with these serious issues, Here's what I want you to know:_

 _You are beautiful. The scale can't measure your worth or potential. What people see on the outside isn't what makes them beautiful. It's the beauty on the inside that makes an impression. You deserve to love yourself today. You CAN recover. You can beat your anorexia, your bulimia, your binge eating disorder. You are a warrior, and you can win this battle. You deserve treatment, and you deserve to be happy again. I know how scary it is to ask for help. I was terrified of it. But you can't let it stop you from getting the recovery that you deserve. And if you're struggling and need to talk, my inbox is always open. You are deserving of freedom from your disorder. But you have to want recovery for yourself, not because someone else tries to force it on you. They can't make you follow through. Only you can do that. It's your body, and it's your life. What you do with that body will affect you for the rest of your life. Take things one day at a time, one step at a time. And please know that you are enough just the way you are._

 _I hope you all enjoy this story!_

 _Love,_

 _Holly_


	2. Chapter 1

Rowena MacLeod was a brilliant witch and beautiful woman. She was highly regarded in the world of the supernatural, even without her son having the title of being the king of Hell. She was a woman who appeared to have everything. Power, money, intelligence, and cunning. No one would suspect that anything was out of place with her life. No one would ever guess the dark secret she kept buried within herself.

From the time she was about twenty years old, she suffered from bulimia.

Her son was about two or three years old at the time. Between an out of control toddler, a coven that had let her in by the skin of her teeth, and no consistent people in her life, she needed something she could control, and that something was food.

Back at that time she also experienced many episodes of Anorexia. These weren't so much chosen as they were forced. She and her son often had little to no food to eat, so when she did get her hands on it she gave it to her son, telling herself that she just would have thrown it back up anyways. And when she was forced to eventually flee her home, the bulimia followed her like a traveling companion. And because she could use magic to heal herself, she could easily hide her habit.

Centuries passed, and the disease never fully went away, but sometimes she could go weeks, even months without purging. It came in cycles, went on and off like a switch. But when things got out of control, she would fall right back into the same routine. It was always there, like a safety net, comforting her and telling her that things were alright.

Today she was at home, getting ready to exercise. She liked to run and do aerobics, and work on her Elliptical. During her cycles of bulimia she exercised every day, and even when she wasn't she tried to do it at least two or three times a week. She pulled her hair back into a ponytail, got her favorite top and Capri length leggings on. She put her favorite exercise playlist on, put her phone in her pocket, and started running, cycling one foot after the other, feeling her heart beat in her chest, and her feet hitting the ground in time with the music. Running became a freeing feeling instead of a constricting one as it had when she had fled her village all those centuries ago.

The neighborhood flew by her, trees, houses, cars, and street signs blurring together. Somewhere along the way the whiteout effect kicked in, and she thought she couldn't see anything. But she followed her instincts and kept going. She caught her second wind shortly after. By the time she got near her home, she looked at her smart watch and saw that she had been running almost half an hour, burned around four hundred calories, and ran almost three miles.

When she got through the door, she drank an entire bottle of water in one go. When she was rehydrated, she hopped in the shower for a while, enjoying the warm water cascading down her back. When she got out, dressed in her normal attire, She sat on the couch to read for a while and drink a cup of tea. No matter how much she hated calories, tea was her biggest weakness. It was her one caloric splurge. She settled into her favorite chair and got lost in the world of her book.

A few hours later, she realized that she was hungry. So she tried to keep it low calorie. A low fat yogurt, a small orange, a salad, and some rice. That was enough to hold her for at least a little while. She went back to her book when she was satisfied. That kept her busy until the evening. When she glanced at the clock she saw it was nearly six. She was going to fix herself something for dinner when she heard her phone ding, alerting her that she had a text message. She looked and saw that it was from her son. Apparently the Winchesters needed her help again. Her eyes stared at the phone, unfocused for a while. She found herself automatically replying that she would be there in the morning. No thoughts ran through her mind for the longest moment, until an invisible dam burst and she was flooded with memories of how she was captured and held hostage by them. The feeling of lack of control flooded her and made her stomach twist into knots. She needed to do something now.

Before she could even think about it, her fingers were dialing the number to her favorite pizza place, ordering an extra large double cheese pizza with every topping she could think of. But she knew that it would take at least half an hour to get here. So she raided the fridge, shoving spoonfuls of low fat frozen yogurt into her mouth. When the doorbell rang, she paid and tipped the delivery driver and slammed the door shut. She bolted over to the couch and started stuffing as much pizza as she could into her face, Before long, the entire confection was gone.

Then, the guilt kicked in, and she found herself running to the fridge and drinking at least two liters of water before going to the bathroom and sticking her fingers down her throat to get rid of it. When she couldn't make herself cough up any more, she found herself putting some old exercise clothes back on and getting on the elliptical. She went at it in twenty minute cycles, stopping to rest for ten. It was only when she passed a certain number of calories that she stopped, suddenly exhausted.

Ignoring the feeling, she jumped in the shower and spent an hour or so watching TV before she finally collapsed into her bed and drifted off into sleep, wary of what the next day would bring.

When she finally woke up the next morning, Rowena went for a long run, knowing that she might not be able to exercise for a long time depending on what the winchesters needed from her. She was gone for over an hour before she got back home. She thought about eating something, but then decided that she would be better off without. Then she showered, packed her essential things, and went to see her son and his supposed friends. She arrived in hell punctually at eleven o'clock. Fergus was there waiting for her.

"Mother." He said curtly.

"Fergus." She nodded.

"Shall we?" He asked. She nodded.

He took her by the arm and transported them to the bunker. When they landed, Rowena gripped her son a little tighter as dizziness overwhelmed her temporarily. Crowley seemed to not notice. She made her way forward and tried to regain her composure as she went down the stairs, thankful that she had something to hold on to. By the time she hit the bottom of the staircase she felt a little better and carefully made her way to a chair so that she could sit down. Sam and Dean looked at her, obviously displeased with having her in their home. But considering the circumstances, they sucked it up. Castiel, who was standing nearby, seemed indifferent.

"Thanks for coming." Said Sam reluctantly. She nodded tiredly, hearing her stomach growl.

"Why am I here?" She asked.

"We need a witch to help us with capturing a monster."

She sighed. "Fine. But what's in it for me?"

"You won't get a fist in your face." Said Dean.

"Is that any way to speak to a lady?" She asked, offended.

"No, but I'm not speaking to a lady. I'm speaking to an evil skank."

Rowena glared at him. "Do you want my help or not?"

"Fine." Said Dean, dropping the subject.

Sam went into detail about the monster, but Rowena was barely paying attention. She was starving. When he finally shut his mouth, Rowena made herself an excuse to leave, promising to help and meet with them again until she was needed. She needed to eat. She went to the store and picked herself up some lunch. A salad, some vegetables, and yogurt. She sat on the bench outside and started eating. If she hadn't been in public she would have been shoveling the food in her face. When she'd eaten, she was about to go home. But she paused when she saw someone carrying out groceries with chips, ice cream, a bucket of fried chicken, and a cake. She stared at the bag for a long moment, longing for the food inside, but she stopped herself. No. No way. She would get fat if she ate all that. Instead, she decided to run as long as she could.

When she got tired and a little sweaty, she made her way back home. The dizziness cropped up again once she got inside. She swayed on her feet unsteadily and gripped the arm of the couch for support, so she tried to wait it out. When the bout of dizziness passed, she sat down. Thank god she had eaten. After a few minutes, she had regained some of her strength. She decided to eat just a little more, having an orange and some more greens, but it didn't satisfy her. She needed more. Needed it. She picked up the phone and ordered Chinese, and then stuffed herself with yogurt, and cereal. When the food came, she was thrilled. Orange chicken, chow mein, beef and broccoli, and brown rice. She got as much in her mouth as humanly possible, and getting as close to the container as possible, giving her fork the shortest distance possible to travel. She washed it down with a large cup of water, ready to purge at a moment's notice. When everything was gone, she sat there for a few minutes, and then found herself feeling too full. She rushed to the bathroom and made herself sick, but knowing that she only had gotten around 80% of what she'd eaten out, she had to work out some more to make the rest of it go away. So she got on her beloved elliptical, started blasting her workout playlist, and went at it at full speed.

Around halfway through her workout, she found herself getting a little dizzy again, but brushed it off as nothing and continued working.

She should have listened to her instincts.

Her vision made her see double, and then triple, as the room started to tilt beneath her, first one way and then the other. She stopped working out, holding herself up as long as she could, and then carefully stepped off of the elliptical. But she stumbled as she tried to get down safely. And then, she blacked out and dropped to the floor.

When she woke up, it was a few hours later. She slowly picked herself up from the ground and got to her feet. She felt shaky, but she was okay. She ignored the sensation in her bones and made her way to her bedroom. She sat down on her bed and realized that she was exhausted. She bid a few hours of her time by reading a book and found herself deciding that she would go to bed early tonight. She changed carefully into her favorite nightgown and brushed her teeth until her gums bled. Then, when she was satisfied, She went to bed. She glanced at the clock. It was nine o'clock, still far too early in the evening to go to bed. At least, that's she told herself when she laid down. But she told herself that it would just mean that she would have more time for exercising in the morning. She'd need it to take away from the stress of working with the winchesters and, by extension, her son. She nestled herself down into her blankets and sighed contentedly before finally going to sleep.


	3. Chapter 2

The sound of her alarm blaring shocked Rowena out of bed. Clutching at her racing heart, she took a moment to catch her breath before she smacked it to turn it off. It was time to start another day. She went to the bathroom and did her morning weigh in. When the scale beeped, she looked down and wondered to herself if the numbers on the scale would be her friend or enemy today.

128.0.

that was down nine ounces from yesterday. She grinned. Morning weigh-ins usually ended up being lower. Although she hated mornings, she would never hate that aspect of them.

After relieving herself and brushing her teeth, she got dressed in her running clothes, and began her morning run. A part of her said that she should have eaten first, but she paid it no mind. She needed to burn off as many calories as possible while her weight was still low. When she got back she checked to see how many calories she had burned. 326. Not bad for the start of the day.

When she got home, the first thing she did was take a few laxatives to make sure her body got rid of any impurities that could be hiding inside of her. She wanted that weight to get out of her as fast as possible. Once that was done, she took a shower, got dressed, and did her make up on the off chance her son would need her today.

When she finished with that she found her gaze being drawn to the fridge. There was a ton of leftover Indian Food in there just screaming her name. She had forgotten it yesterday but now, in her hunger, she remembered it. Her fingers twitched. Her hand wanted that food. Her mouth wanted that food. Her stomach was screaming for it, but she took in a deep breath and let it out. It was not meant for her. She didn't need it. She would need dozens upon dozens of laxatives and hours of exercise to get all of that out of her system. Was a little indulgence really worth it? Her brain said no, but her body screamed _yes!._

Indecision warred on her face. Her stomach growled, accentuating the urgency. She found herself reaching for the fridge handle. She opened the door and watched the light turn on. Temptation lay there in front of her, mere inches away. Her fingers felt electric as she slowly reached for the food.

Just before she touched the carton, her cell phone rang.

 _Saved by the bell_ She thought, relieved. She slid the phone and answered it.

"Hello?"

"Mummy. Your time has come."

"Good morning to you too, Fergus."

"I'm bloody Crowley, mum!"

"Fergus is the name I gave you and it's the name I will call you. End of story. Now, where do you need me?"

"A forest in Washington, near the city of Forks."

"Isn't that the place where-"

"Yes, yes, the vampire movie. I know, I've heard it before. Just get down here."

"Fine. I'll see you in a bit."

"Bye."

Rowena gathered the supplies she had gathered after her son had first called, filled up a bag, and got on her way, hunger forcibly pushed aside. She could resist the temptation for a little while longer. She appeared in the forest. The sun was just beginning to set there. She ignored the presence of Sam and Dean, and acknowledged her son with a nod of the head. She set up. Her supplies and tried her best to ignore the wave of dizziness that was beginning to creep in. She would devour the entire fridge once she got home. She swore it. But now she didn't have time for weakness. She had a job to do. Crowley stood in front of his mother to her left, ready to jump in if necessary, but he was fairly sure it wouldn't matter.

Rowena began the arduous process of making the spell that would make the monster dissolve into nothingness. She could hear the sound of footsteps crunching through the forest. As she began the spell she began to feel another bout of dizziness, but tried to ignore it. She started to begin the spell as promised, but suddenly the world was beginning to move dangerously beneath her. Her vision split double, triple, quadruple, and finally quintuple. First one way, then it came back to one, and then split again. The world tilted underneath her, and darkness enclosed her.

Crowley was watching her when it happened. He saw when her gaze became glassy and unfocused. This raised a red flag for him. Mother was always incredibly precise with her witchcraft. Despite himself. he felt worry beginning to bubble up inside of him for her. Then, her words began to become inconsistent, like she was forgetting what she was saying, and he knew that wasn't right. The woman had a memory like an elephant. He knew, she never forgot any of his mistakes. When her eyes began to get crosseyed, He knew something was wrong. Her body began to sway dangerously. His eyes widened, and the new few moments seemed to happen in slow motion.

Crowley watched as his mother stopped speaking entirely, heard her let out a loud exhale. He watched as her body crumpled to the ground with a muted thud against the dirt. He tried to get there in time to cushion her fall, but he was too late. He raced over to her. Despite his anger at his mistreatment as a child, there was some part of him that still loved her. He shook her by the shoulder, completely ignoring the cries of the Winchester Brothers.

"Mother? Mother, wake up!" He called. A moment later he realized it was no use. She was unconscious. He felt the Winchesters come up behind them, furious about a perceived betrayal, but ignored it.

Desperate to get her out of the situation, he did the first thing that came to mind and transported them to a hospital and watched with mixed emotions as they strapped her on a gurney and wheeled her away.


	4. Chapter 3

Crowley found himself sitting in a hard-backed plastic chair in a waiting room that smelled like pine-sol, bleach, and illness. The fluorescent lighting seemed to wash out the faces of everyone else in the room. They were like ghosts, their eyes hollow and somber as they waited for news of their loved ones. Some people were weeping quietly and the others were praying to themselves, leaving a distant murmur of words spoken as they did so. Crowley did not cry, nor did he pray. He sat there, waiting for something to happen. He saw no use for tears or prayers. Nothing would change if he did those things. His mother would still be in the hospital unconscious. And she still wouldn't love him, no matter what he did.

A doctor with coiffed black hair entered the room, and it seemed that every head in the room popped up at the same time.

"Mr. MacLeod?" He called. Crowley got up and rolled his eyes.

"It's just Crowley." He said. The doctor nodded absently.

"May I speak with you for a moment?"

"By all means."

The two men went into the hall. Crowley spoke first.

"How is she?"

"Your mother suffered a case of severe bradycardia, it's where the heart beats slower than normal. We're running some more tests now to see what caused it. She's stable for now if you'd like to see her."

Crowley nodded and followed the doctor to her room. He took a good look at her as the doctor murmured something about coming back later and left. Her skin was almost translucent and devoid of color. Her jaw was swollen, and her eyes looked puffy. She looked weak and helpless, something he'd never seen on her before. To a degree, it unnerved him, although he would never admit it. He sat in the chair beside his mother, stared at her for a long moment, and spoke.

"Well Mummy, it looks like you have a weakness after all." He said. The words bounced off of the walls and settled uncomfortably in the air around him. For a long space of time, there was quiet. Then, the rustling of sheets filled the room.

Rowena MacLeod felt consciousness swim to the surface as the black world around her was pierced by a white light as her eyes pried themselves open. In a detached moment, she felt a hand go to her forehead, not realizing that it was her own. She groaned involuntarily. Then, she realized that she didn't know where she was. She took in an audible breath.

"Where am I?" She asked no one in particular, her voice was raspy with sleep.

"You're in the hospital." Crowley answered. Rowena felt her head turn to her son at hearing his voice.

"Fergus? What are you doing here?" She asked, voice fatigued.

"You passed out on the hunt. I brought you here. The doctors are running some tests now to see what happened."

The words didn't register with her. She just nodded and sighed.

A knock sounded at the door, and the doctor came in, looking through the chart on his clipboard. He looked up and saw that his patient was awake, and smiled at her.

"Hello Ms. MacLeod. It's good to see you're awake. My name is Doctor Earnhardt. Do you know where you are?" He asked.

"Hospital?" It came out like a question more than an answer.

"Yes. You're at Mercy Care Hospital in Washington. Can you tell me the last thing that you remember?"

Flashes of the hunt raced through her mind, and she knew she had to lie quickly. "My son and I went for a walk in the forest and we got lost. The last thing I remember was taking a break in the forest and then nothing."

"How long were you out there?" He asked.

"I don't remember. I'm sorry." She said, confused.

"Ms. MacLeod, our tests show that you haven't eaten in over twenty four hours. Your blood sugar is extremely low and your heart rate was so slow that it made you faint."

"We were gone for a long time, and I don't remember when it was I last ate. Probably before we got lost." She covered quickly. The doctor stared at her for a long time, and it raised a silent alarm for her. Something was up.

"Ms. MacLeod, our tests show that your electrolyte levels are imbalanced, Your cardiogram is abnormal, your jaw is swollen, and your potassium levels are low. I've also seen your gums bleed, and you have teeth marks on your hands."

With every word, she felt fear and panic seep into her. Especially with his last remark. He was onto her. She had to get Fergus out of the room before-

"Ms. MacLeod, are you Bulimic?"

And there it was, the bombshell dropped and detonated. Rowena turned away from him.

Crowley watched his mother grow more panicked with every word the doctor spoke, and saw the fear flash through her eyes. It was delicious for him. But when he saw his mother turn away, he knew it was true, and felt shock set in.

"This is ridiculous!" Rowena said, throwing the blankets off of herself. She tried to get past Doctor Earnhardt to leave but he stopped her.

"Ms. MacLeod, Bulimia is a serious illness. It can cause tooth decay, irregular periods, and more serious issues like dehydration which can lead to kidney failure, not to mention heart problems, digestive issues, and hemorrhaging. Ms. MacLeod, if you keep this up this disorder could kill you."

Silence met his declaration. Rowena's shoulders slumped, but she did not turn back.

"I found a residential treatment center for eating disorders in Wickenburg, Arizona that has agreed to take you. A doctor from the center will be here to speak with you within the next few hours. You'll be taken home to pack your things before they take you up to the center. I'll be back to check on you later."

With a final nod to his patient, Doctor Earnhardt turned on his heels, leaving mother and son alone.


	5. Chapter 4

**Author's Note: I'm not gonna lie, this is my favorite chapter yet. It was insanely fun to write. I hope you all enjoy it as much as I did!**

The sound of a door slamming in the hallway accentuated the emptiness of the room as mother and son stood as statues in the quiet. Rowena didn't dare look at her son for fear of the silent judgement that surely awaited her in his eyes. She tried not to move, not to breathe. She wanted to make this a snow globe scene, where no one did anything no matter how hard the globe was shaken. But she knew that all too soon this moment would end and the wrath of her child awaited her. Knowing that she couldn't give him the chance to ask any questions before she was ready to answer it, she had to make the first move, wether she wanted to or not.

"Well, let's have it." She said. The sound of her own voice surprised her.

Crowley flinched almost imperceptibly, startled from his thoughts. Dr. Earnhardt's words had shaken him to his core. As soon as he said the word Bulimic, Crowley had almost smacked himself. How could he have been so blind?! The word suddenly brought back hazy memories from his human life so long ago. There were times as a small child that he recalled never seeing his mother eat at all, and others when he thought he heard her throwing up. And among the many times that she had left, many of them had been to "go to the store" or "go for a run" at all hours of the day. He suddenly found himself grateful that there were no scales back when he was a child otherwise he figured he might have been ignored completely.

Now, however, he found himself looking at his mother differently. He still had so much hatred and anger toward her, but now that he knew there was a disease that had been consuming her for all his life (if not longer) it made him think that her inability to be a decent mother might not have been entirely her fault. With all of these emotions circling through his head, he couldn't gather his thoughts properly. So all that came out when she spoke was a startled

"What?"

"Get on with it. Rant about how you'll hold this over me for the rest of my life. Stick the knife in my back. Just make it fast."

But Crowley didn't quite know what to say. The feelings of anger, shock, and surprisingly betrayal were mixing into a lethal cocktail of emotions. How could he make her understand how what she had done affected him?

"I don't know what to say."

"That's a lie. It's a blatant lie and you know that." She said as she turned to him, suddenly angry.

"You're one to talk about lies. You hid this from me my entire life! You've been killing yourself inch by inch for centuries and you still have the guile to blame me for all of your problems! Have you always hated me that much?!"

"I was protecting you!" She screamed, furious.

"From what?!" He thundered.

"From me!" The words came out broken. She clamped a hand over her mouth and slowly sat down on her bed. Crowley waited for her to say more. "I starved myself so that you could eat, so that you would be stronger than I was. I didn't want this disease to destroy you like it did me. I thought I was saving you when I left. I thought you were better off without me."

"Better off? BETTER OFF? I was eight bloody years old and you left me to fend for myself! How could you think that I was better off without you?! I needed you, and you left me. And I've never been able to trust anyone since."

"Even you, Fergus, will never be able to hate me as much as I hate myself." She said quietly.

"I beg to differ." He said.

There was a comfortable silence between them. She looked up at him, and said the two words he never expected to hear her say:

"I'm sorry." She said the words so faintly he could barely make them out. Crowley felt his head shoot up in surprise.

"What?"

She looked at him. "You heard me."

"I know. I just can't believe it."

"I was so busy hating myself that I started to take it out on you. I don't think I ever realized that I was doing it then. But afterward I couldn't stop. It became a competition. I couldn't be a mother. I could only be the best witch there was. I always had to win with you. I don't think I ever stopped to just love you… and I'm sorry for that."

Crowley didn't know what to say so he kept quiet.

"I remember the day that you were born." She mused. "When I held you for the first time and looked into your eyes I fell in love with you right away. But I was afraid to. I didn't know how to handle that feeling. I wanted to protect you from everything but I knew I couldn't even protect you from myself, and it hurt more than you could ever imagine." She paused for a minute, lost in thought. "They say that new mothers can identify their babies by smell after a day or so. I knew your scent almost immediately. I always thought you smelled like burning incense and cinnamon. And whenever I was trying not to binge while you were asleep I would sit next to you and smell your hair and it would calm me down and give me the strength to stop. I always thought love was weakness, but maybe… maybe I was wrong. Maybe you were my strength all along."

Quiet blanketed the room. Finally, Crowley spoke. "You loved me?" It was three hesitant words.

"No." He felt his hopes drop into his stomach, before she amended: "I do love you."

They locked eyes, staring at one another in silent tableau. "Could you give me a chance to be better for you this time around?"

The seconds that followed were the most painful of her life.

"Okay. We can try."

They shared a faint smile, and shook hands. Then, Rowena leaned in and kissed her son's temple for the first time in years.

"I love you, Fergus." For a moment, Crowley hesitated before speaking.

"I love you too, Mummy."


	6. Chapter 5

For a long time neither mother nor son spoke, neither of them wanting to break the spell that their mutual honesty had created. For once they weren't Crowley and Rowena, bloodthirsty enemies toward one another, they were Mother and child. The had whole conversations just through their eye contact. Ones more meaningful than any words that they had spoken to one another before. At first it felt awkward, seeing as neither of them were affectionate people, but slowly they grew braver. Rowena reached out and slowly ran a hand down her son's scratchy cheek. For the first time in a very long while, she felt loved. As did her son.

Rowena found herself wringing her hands anxiously despite now feeling acceptance from her child. The words of Dr. Earnhardt now circled in her mind. They were shipping her off to some treatment facility a thousand miles away from her home. Some place with women skinnier, prettier, and better than her. Some place with regulated meals and snacks and people who monitored her in the bathroom so that she couldn't possibly purge. Oh she knew about treatment centers and their evil ways. She found out from treatment websites what her Bulimia was, and had read about what they could do. She'd heard horror stories from fellow bulimics online of the different ways treatment centers tormented them. With their pedialyte with every meal, and their nutrition shakes that you'd have to drink if you didn't finish all of your food, and the constant monitoring so that you couldn't exercise and the blood draws that happened at least three times a week, if not more to make sure you weren't purging anymore.

She was terrified of treatment. Hopelessly and utterly terrified.

Crowley noticed his mother's hands trembling and hesitantly reached out to gently touch her clasped hands. She looked up at him..

"What's bothering you?" He asked.

She tried to make herself smile for her son's sake. "Nothing. I'm fine, really."

"Mummy." He said with a knowing look. Rowena sighed.

"I don't need to go to treatment." She said. "with a wee bit of magic I can heal my body. It's not like I'm really hurting myself. Besides, I want to get to spend some time with you. I can't do that from a treatment center now, can I?"

"Yes you can, mother." He said, voice surprisingly strong. She looked up at him, confused.

"What?"

"I want you to go to treatment, Mum." He said.

"Wha- Why?"

"Because I want you to get better." He explained.

"I don't need to get better. I'm not sick." She said.

"Yes you are, Mummy. And I want you to get better." He argued. "If you won't do it for yourself, would you do it for me? Please?"

"I- Well I- I don't…" She wanted to refute his words, but no words would come out. She didn't know what to say to that. She looked into his chocolate brown eyes, trying to find some semblance of him lying just to spite her, but found none. The words were honest, and sincere. And it caught her off guard. She couldn't find any words. He was honestly worried about her. Her mind flashed back to when he was a little boy and all she wanted to do was protect him from herself.

Crowley saw his mother's face fraught with indecision, and was about to say something when his cell phone began to ring. He slid and answered it. "Moose. Squirrel. What can I do for you?"

Crowley pulled the phone away from his ear as someone- most likely Dean- shouted a string of expletives into his ear. Crowley was unfazed and waited patiently for the line to go quiet. "Are you quite finished?"

A quiet grumbling.

Crowley sighed. "My mother was unconscious, squirrel. Would you have left your mother to die in that forest?" He asked. An unintelligible murmur.

"I wasn't going to leave her. If anyone is going to kill her, it's going to be me." He said, trying to save face. He looked at his mother after saying this and mouthed the word "Sorry" to her. She nodded in understanding. "How was the hunt?… Oh?… Well at least it's done… Yes… Alright.

"We're at Mercy Care hospital." he continued. "Yes, she's awake now… They said her heart rate was too low so she fainted… No, we don't know what caused it… I don't know if they'd let you in, I didn't think you'd even want to see her. I didn't think you cared… Alright, yes, fine. Goodbye."

He hung up the phone. "Moose and squirrel send their regards, and they'll be here in a few hours."

"Did they finish the hunt?"

"Yes. And without us. It's a miracle they even survived." Crowley said. Rowena laughed.

"I'm in shock." she chortled.

The two of them shared a smile before settling down again. They enjoyed the silence for a while before Crowley spoke up again, gently touching his mother's hand.

"Please think about what I said, Mummy."

Rowena found herself smiling. "You haven't called me that in years. I missed that." She said, and found herself fingering the gold locket around her neck. Crowley hadn't noticed it until then.

"What is that? He asked.

"This?" She asked. He nodded.

"It's a locket. I had it made centuries ago. It has a picture of you in it that I had hand painted after you were born. I asked for a smaller version to be made, and they did so. I never take it off. It reminds me of where I've been and how far I've come. And it reminded me of you." She said quietly.

Mother and son shared another smile. After a very long moment, Crowley spoke.

"Alright."

"Alright what?"

"I will think about you not having to go to treatment. But If you don't I'll be with you as often as I can, and if I find one thing out of place at home, I'll ship you out faster than you can imagine."

She smiled. "Deal."


	7. Chapter 6

Rowena found herself laying in her hospital bed, bored out of her mind. There was no TV in her room, nor were there any books. Her son's company was good, and she was grateful for his presence, but often times they lapsed into periods of silence where they didn't know what to say to each other. They were so new to communication that they sometimes couldn't speak to one another without coming off as sarcastic to one another. All she could do was stare at the IV in her arm and the fluid bag it connected to. She just knew the liquids going through her were pumping her full of hundreds of calories. She imagined the calories going in, blowing her up like a helium balloon, filling her until she finally popped. The thought made her shutter, and she suddenly wanted to do a hundred jumping jacks just to stave it off. But she knew if she did she'd wreck her chances of her son letting her do treatment from home. So she sat there, frozen with indecision as she stared at the clock and tried to make time go just a little faster.

When the second hand just passed twelve, her hospital room door slammed open, making her jump and the heart monitor start beeping frantically until Crowley used a bit of demon power to calm it down. Rowena put a hand to her chest, trying to get composed. She relaxed when she saw it was only the Winchesters.

Dean entered first, face dark with five o'clock shadow, and clothing tattered from an apparent fight with the creature they were hunting. He looked exhausted, and slightly angry. Sam trailed behind him, looking bloodied and bruised, but somehow more curious than he did beaten.

"Moose. Squirrel. Glad you joined the party." Said Crowley, looking slightly amused.

"Sorry we're late. guess we should have brought something from the gift shop." Said Dean, moving his gaze to Rowena.

"the sentiment is touching." She said, smiling plastically.

Sam looked a little unsure of what to say, so he chose not to say anything until he could better assess the situation.

A nurse poked her head into the room. "Excuse me, but only one visitor is allowed in at a time."

Dean smiled at her. "That's okay, they were just leaving so that we could have a few minutes alone." He said.

Sam and Crowley shared a look before Crowley turned to look at his mother and cock his head to one side as if to ask her if it was alright. She nodded, and the two of them left the room, leaving Rowena and Dean alone. Dean moved and closed the door.

"Alright, what do you want with me?" Rowena asked, sitting up in her bed as soon as the door closed.

"I want to know what the hell happened back there. Why the hell did you screw us over?" He raved.

"I didn't." She said calmly.

"Bullshit. You had Crowley cover for you, and you made yourself sick with some spell as an excuse. Just admit it." He said, angrily. "My brother almost got killed because of you, so you better start talking before I get angry."

"Didn't your mother teach you to be a gentleman toward women?" She asked. Dean just glared her down. She sighed. "I didn't lie to you. I didn't make an excuse. Fergus didn't cover for me. I fainted when I was trying to perform the spell. I hadn't gotten a chance to eat before you called for me. I had already overexerted myself earlier, and hadn't drunk anything either. My heart couldn't take it, so I passed out. Besides, what could I have possibly gained from letting that creature win? It could have killed me too. Do you really think I'd risk my neck over one little stunt? More importantly, why would I put myself in a hospital? Why would I want to be monitored around the clock? Why not just go home and fix it myself?" For this, Dean had no answer. Once he had come down enough from his angry spell to think rationally, he realized that, unfortunately, everything she was saying were valid points. Rowena saw this and continued on, building to a mighty finish. "You think you know everything, don't you? Just because you're name is Winchester you think that you're the only ones who can be honest or truthful. Well I've got news for you: There are some things that you know nothing about. You'll never bother to open up your eyes to the idea that just maybe I'm telling you the truth. You can't stand the idea that I might be right, because then you can't blame me for your brother getting hurt. Well guess what: I'm not your scapegoat in this. Not now. Not ever."

She watched with undisguised pleasure as Dean Winchester stared at her, mouth agape at her words. Then, she pushed the button at her bedside that called a nurse to her room. A nurse came in shortly after.

"Yes?" The young blonde asked.

Rowena smiled at her. "Would you please escort him out of my room. And, if you don't mind, could you bring back my son?"

"Certainly." She said. She led Dean away, which wasn't a hard task because she was young and beautiful. Just his type of girl. She heard the door open again, only instead of her son being there, it was Sam.

"Can I help you?" She asked, exasperated.

He stood awkwardly in the door frame. "I just wanted to see how you were doing, and uh, I hope you get better soon."

She smiled. "At least someone in your family has manners." He nodded, a fast jerky bob before leaving. Crowley came in a short while later and resumed his position at his mother's bedside.

"What did moose want?" He asked. He had already overheard Dean's conversation with her. Everyone had because his yelling had been so loud.

She stared out the doorway where Sam had left. After a long while, She finally spoke up. "I think he came to try and say that he was sorry


	8. Chapter 7

Rowena spent the next hour talking to her son, trying to catch up on everything that she had missed throughout his life. She found herself uncharacteristically fascinated with his antics. She wondered absently if it should have felt like this all along. For a long while it had been. She recalled holding her newborn son and feeling the magic elixir of emotions that came with motherhood. And then her career as a witch had taken president over being a good mother. Her ego had been centered on being the best witch there ever was and the thinnest girl she could ever be instead of being the kind of mother that her son needed. The losses that she had suffered had devastated her. She would never get the chance to hold him as a baby again, or rock him to sleep after a nightmare. She'd never get to sing him a lullaby to calm him down or cuddle him to her chest again. The simple things most mothers took for granted every day would be things she would never get to do, and she wished with all she had that she got a chance to recapture those moments without her ego or her illness getting in the way.

In the midst of her musings and her son's remembrances, a soft knock came at the door.

Dr. Earnhardt poked his head inside. "Ms. MacLeod? May I have a few moments of your time?"

Rowena nodded, and had a funny feeling about what was going to happen next. Dr. Earnhardt stepped into the room and ushered in a blonde man with slicked back hair wearing an expensive suit and lab coat over it.

"Ms. MacLeod, this is my colleague Dr. Bremmer. He runs the Taylor Centers For Eating Disorders in Arizona."

Rowena turned to doctor Bremmer. His eyes were amber colored and he had a smile that made her think he came off as professional and empathetic to others, but to her he seemed eager to sucker in another patient and buy himself another diamond watch or Armani Suit. Still, she plastered a smile on her face. The sooner he left the sooner she could go home.

"Ms. MacLeod. It's a pleasure to meet you." He said, offering her his hand.

"Please, call me Rowena." She said. He moved to shake Crowley's hand after a hastily murmured introduction.

"Rowena, At the Taylor Centers For Eating Disorders we believe in an individualized treatment for each person who steps through our doors. Every person who we treat gets a therapist, a registered dietician, a psychiatrist, and a meal plan that is tailored to each patient's needs. We have several different therapies available for patients, including equine, art, aroma therapy, Cognitive Behavioral, and of course Group Therapy. We have aids on staff who will be there to support and encourage you throughout your meals and your time there. We have experiential nutrition where you can learn about portion sizes, and impulse control. And our center is located away from cities and crowded towns. No one who isn't struggling with the same things that you are will be there. We want to help you on your path to recovery." He said. Rowena was quiet before speaking.

"And how much exactly is this path to recovery going to cost me?" She asked.

"We accept most insurances which helps cover a lot of the cost-"

"How much is this going to cost me?" She asked again, more pointedly.

"Usually the deductible is between one to two thousand dollars depending on your insurance. If you are uninsured then your obviously looking at much more substantial payment."

"How much exactly?"

He told her, and somehow her already pale skin grew whiter.

After a moment she recovered herself. "I see. Well thank you for your time, but my son and I need some time to talk things over."

"Of course. If you decide to seek treatment, Taylor Centers For Eating Disorders would be happy to have you. Here's my card." He said, handing her a business card made with high grade paper and raised lettering. It further confirmed her theory that he was a rich jerk. And although she wanted to marry a rich man, this one gave her a feeling that she couldn't ignore. He wasn't worth it. She bade him good day, and then waited for him to leave. When the room was empty, she turned to her son to see what he thought of the whole thing.

"What do you think, Fergus?"

He was about to protest her calling him that but decided it wasn't worth the energy. "It sounds stable." He said, but he sounded unsure.

"Darling, what is it?" She asked, reaching out to smooth her son's hair.

Crowley looked at her. He saw the mother he had known all his life, the one who had cheated, lied, left, and hated. And then, at the same time, he saw the new mother who he was just beginning to know. One who loved freely, treated him kindly, and made him feel loved for the first time in his life. These two women were a dichotomy sharing one body, and he had to make his decision based on who he wanted to believe. Choosing hope over history, he stared at her for a long moment, the amount of time total it took to inhale and exhale a breath, and then he spoke.

"Mummy, I had another idea."

"Alright, let's hear it then."

"Frankly, I don't trust you to be in your home on your own. There are too many opportunities for temptation. But I also don't want to cart you away to some far away place where you don't know a soul. So I've thought up a compromise."

"Which is?"

"How would you like to come live with me instead?"

Rowena blinked uncomprehendingly for a moment before breaking out in a Cheshire cat grin.

"I'd be delighted to."

She delicately pressed a kiss to her son's forehead and thought that maybe- just maybe- her time with her son might not be over quite yet.


	9. Chapter 8

The following day, Rowena was released from the hospital. She found it humiliating that her son had to wheel her out the doors, considering that she protected her independence like a crown jewel. When he took the wheelchair back and came back out, he transported the both of them back to her home to pack her things. In the back of her mind, she secretly hoped to be able to take some laxatives from her secret stash, just so she could have control over something, but she knew that she would have to be incredibly sneaky to outsmart her son. She knew he wanted to help her, and she felt guilty about thinking it, but she needed the security in case everything happened to fall apart.

Rowena felt as if she entered another world when she appeared in her living room. So much had happened in the past twenty four hours that it seemed impossible to be back here. She stole a longing look at her elliptical before she went into her bedroom. She had a black luggage set in her closet, and began to diligently pack her things into the suitcase. Her mind was running a mile a minute as she tried to think of all of the things she needed to pack. Her clothes and toiletries, of course, But there was so much else. Her spell books, her phone and charger, her favorite books, and her most favorite tea set.

She heard mysterious voices murmuring in her living room. Curious, she came out into her kitchen to see her son speaking to the Winchester brothers. She straightened up and immediately found her mood turning surly.

"Fergus Roderick MacLeod, what on earth are _they_ doing inside of my house?!" She thundered.

The use of his full name made Crowley flinch almost imperceptibly before recovering himself. His first instinct was to refute the use of his human name as he often had with his mother, but considering the circumstances he ignored it.

"Mother. Moose and Squirrel have come to clean the house."

Rowena blinked at him vapidly. "I'm sorry, what?"

"They came to clean out your stash." He said. Her heart skipped a beat.

"My stash?" She asked, playing dumb in order to not arouse suspicion.

"Yes. your stash. Of laxatives. Of diuretics. Of emedics. and of anything you can use to hurt yourself."

She chuckled nervously. "What? That's ridiculous!" She said.

"Is it?" Asked Dean. He held up a plastic bag, full of open bottles of laxatives, diuretics, ipecac syrup, and milk of magnesia. Not to mention her expensive scale that not only weighed her, but also calculated her BMI, among other things.

"That's impossible." She whispered. Suddenly she found herself running to the bathroom. She yanked open her medicine cabinet and saw her shelves cleared. She stared at the shelves in a sort of stupor. Then, she was flying into her bedroom, checking between the mattresses to find them empty as well. The drawer in the kitchen? Gone. The hatch in the closet? Gone. Behind the headboard? Gone. Every single laxative, diuretic, e-medic, was gone. She let out an angry screech and slammed her fist into her mirror in her bedroom. Her shot at control, at normalcy, at sanity was gone. She found herself breathing heavily, staring at the thousands of reflections of herself. In it, she saw someone ugly. Ugly, disgustingly fat. The voice of her bulimia, whom she simply called Mia, began whispering into her ear.

 _You look so ugly. You don't deserve to eat. You're such a fat pig. You have to get it out. Get it out of yourself now._

She stared at herself in the mirror, not even noticing the pain in her bleeding hand. She didn't even hear Crowley and Sam and Dean running into the room. Her eyebrows furrowed with anger and upset.

"I hate you." She whispered. "You're so ugly. You'll never be good enough."

It wasn't until Sam heard her negative self talk that he put it all together. The fainting, the hospital, the laxatives, the scale. All of it added up to one thing: An eating disorder. He was a hunter first and foremost, but occasionally his research had taken him into the medical field. He had only barely touched on the symptoms of an eating disorder, but he remembered enough to know that Rowena was definitely deep in the clutches of some kind of eating disorder. Judging from what he'd seen, it looked like she had a case of severe Bulimia, but then again, he wasn't a doctor so he couldn't judge. He decided to keep what he'd deduced to himself for now, though. After all, what Rowena did or didn't do in her personal life was none of his business.

Crowley heard her words, and felt his heart sink slowly into his stomach like a stone. He'd been running hell and had been tormented for years, but somehow those words got under his skin too deeply to be ignored. He knew he had to get the Winchester's out of there now.

"Thank you, Moose. Squirrel. That will be all for now." He said, waving them away. Dean and Sam shrugged and left, trash bag of boxes, scales, and pills in tow.

When the door slammed, Crowley went over to his mother. He put his hands on her shoulders. "Come on Mummy, let's get you packed." He said, trying to gloss over her words. Reluctantly, Rowena followed him. Slowly she put the contents of her house in a suitcase and a couple of boxes. Then, when all of her essentials were packed, She grabbed her luggage and one of the boxes while her son grabbed the other one. Then, Crowley teleported them down into hell, in front of her new room. She set her luggage down in the inside of her doorway. Crowley set the few boxes that he was carrying down and then put an arm around his mother, smiling slightly.

"Welcome home, Mummy. Welcome home."


	10. Chapter 9

Rowena found herself preoccupied as she unpacked her things into her new home. The room wasn't sectioned off as she had once imagined. She had pictured some half wall sectioning off her living room, kitchen, bedroom, and bathroom, but it was one big room. She had begun unpacking her clothing. Fergus had assured her that he could fix that in a moment, but he wanted her things put out first so that he could know where to put the walls and doorways. Although, he had made himself explicitly clear that there would be no locks on any of the doors. In fact, he didn't want to put doors in at all, with the exception of the bathroom of course. However, that was the door he most adamantly wanted to not be there. He even seriously debated not using a door. He wanted to put a shower curtain in instead, so that she couldn't have complete privacy. Because privacy meant opportunities for sabotaging recovery.

Fergus had already moved in the larger furniture pieces for her. Now she was filling her dresser drawers with clothing, and then she would drape her jewelry on her hangers, and in her jewelry boxes. When those were both done, she would unpack her make up, and place it strategically over her vanity. She found that unpacking the small things first after her furniture would make it easier in the end. She found that focusing on small details helped to stifle the voice of Mia that so often cropped up in her mind.

When the bedroom was unpacked and clean, she moved on to the bathroom. This was a hard room for her to be in. The shower and tub combination was already tucked into one corner, and the toilet nearby, and the sink next to that. But what really caught her eye was the medicine cabinet. The reflective surface caught her curious eyes. Her fingers gently wrapped around the edge, and for a moment she eagerly expected to find a treasure trove of laxatives and diuretics behind the mirror. But she opened it, and it was empty. None of the things she had once treasured would be there. The most Fergus would likely let her have would be pepto bismol and alka-seltzer.

She put in her toothbrush, toothpaste, mouthwash, and dental floss inside. Then, unsatisfied, she smacked the door closed- and jumped when she saw her son standing behind her.

"Fergus, you gave me a fright!" She gasped. He quickly put his hands up in a placating gesture.

"Sorry. Are you alright?" He asked.

"Aside from my racing heart, I think I'll live."

"Good." He said. "I got your dishwasher up and running. The sink is too."

She nodded. "That's good." But the words were empty.

Crowley noticed this and cocked his head to one side. "Mummy? What is it?"

"What do you mean?" She asked. He gave her a knowing look, and she sighed, moving from the bathroom and sitting on her newly made bed. For a long moment, she was silent.

"I don't know how to do this." She heard herself say.

"Do what?" He asked patiently.

"I don't know how to not be… sick. Fergus, I've had this disorder since before you were born. I've gone through periods of sobriety but even then I always had laxatives or ipecac or something to know that I still had control. And now, all of the things that got me through the hardest and worst times of my life are gone. How am I supposed to live with that? How can I accept that?… How am I going to get that voice out of my head?" It ended with a small, terrified whisper.

"Voice?" Crowley asked. "What Voice?"

"Mia. Ana. Both of them. My Bulimia and anorexia. Mia comes more often than ana. Ana hasn't been there since you were probably eight years old. But Mia… She never leaves me alone. She screams, and she won't stop until I listen to her. Even when I sleep she shrieks. I have to take the laxatives, or stick my finger down my throat, because if I don't… If I don't… She doesn't stop."

Crowley listened to her in surprise. The voices of demons in people's minds were commonplace to him. But to someone who wasn't possessed, it was rare. It wasn't that he didn't believe his mother- actually it was quite the opposite. He had complete confidence that she was telling the truth. What else could have made her so upset? It was that he struggled with seeing her as a victim. She had always been so confident, so self assured… the idea that she ever had her own demons to face was mind boggling. He was quiet for a few moments, struggling with what he could say to her to make her understand just how wrong she was.

"Mummy," He began, "Don't you understand? You didn't have anything back then. You didn't have anyone. I was too young to understand, and my father was gone by then, wasn't he? That meant that you were doing things on your own. That was three centuries ago. But things are different now. You've grown stronger. You have become someone else. Someone better than that. And now, you have something that you didn't have before."

She looked up at him, confused. "What?"

He hesitated, briefly contemplating if what he was about to say was the right thing, before he went on, feeling fear make his heart race and his palms sticky. "Me."

Rowena looked up at her son in surprise. For a moment, he thought that maybe he had done something wrong. But then, seconds later, the biggest smile lit up her face. She wrapped an arm around her son's shoulders. Her love was hanging in the air around them- in the silence, in their mutual smiles, and in the things the left unsaid. All was quiet in the small apartment. They didn't need words.

There was nothing more to say.


	11. Chapter 10

With Rowena now living down in hell, Crowley found it much easier to balance his personal and professional lives. His demons were completely unaware of the enmity between mother and son vanishing. They only saw him go in and out of what appeared to be different rooms in the corridors of hell. Unbeknownst to them, it was always Rowena's tiny apartment. It had only been bewitched to look like different doors. To clear up any confusion for Crowley, Rowena marked the door with an invisible sort of paint, that would only show up when Crowley's eyes were looking at it.

Since bringing his mother down into hell, Crowley found himself transforming into a completely different person. Although his demeanor in hell never changed a bit, personally, he found himself growing happier, and finding out more about his mother in the span of one week than he had known in three centuries. Now, he finally started feeling that kind of unspoken bond that parents and children were supposed to have. They shared a sense of black humor, and said comments dripping with sarcasm to one another and snickered to each other about the absolute stupidity of other people. Slowly, they found it easier to loosen up around one another. The hospital had been a stiff and formal setting. Sitting in his mother's living room and talking to her so honestly seemed to break the tensions between them. Slowly, they began to leave the past behind them. Slowly, they became a real family.

Despite their growing closeness, Rowena found herself feeling a kind of emptiness that she hadn't felt before. At first she thought it was because she had none of her old mechanisms of control. Her laxatives, ipecac, and scales were gone. But somewhere inside, she knew that wasn't it. She found it happened the most when her son left her apartment, and strangely enough when he came. She couldn't figure out what the ache in her chest was. The more time she spent with him, the more she hurt. It was driving her mad. She was so happy to be with him- really, she was. So why did it make her feel so… regretful? And then, one night when she was trying to sleep, it hit her. She felt guilty for missing out on her son's childhood. He had only been eight years old when she had gone, and she had missed so much. She would never get that time back.

The idea of lost time had seemed so trivial to her back when she had first left her son. She had had all of the time in the world, or at least it had seemed that way. There was always time to go back. That's what she had always told herself. Now, looking back, she realized what a fool she'd been. Childhood was fleeting. If only she'd understood that when her son had been little.

At first the sadness restricted itself to the lonely hours of the evening. It haunted her, and the ghosts of the past flew inside of her and hid in the hollow of her ribs. But they didn't stay there like she thought they would. They filled up her ribs and then trailed up her spine until they reached her brain. Then, when she thought they couldn't get worse, the nightmare spilled over into the day. Gradually, the sense of loss deflated her. It affected her so much that eventually, her son began to notice that something was wrong. He didn't say anything at first, mostly because he didn't want to pry and he wanted her to come to him on his own. Eventually, though, he grew impatient and asked.

"Alright, Mummy. What's going on?" He asked.

She looked up at him in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"You aren't doing well. What is bothering you?"

She let out a long, slow breath. "I've been thinking too much."

"About?" He prompted.

"About how much I missed throughout your life. Your first kiss, your first date, the birth of my grandchild…" She paused, unsure of how to continue. "And I realized that I will never get that time back. I'll never get to rock you to sleep in my arms again or watch you play… I sacrificed all of that for my career… And even though it ended up bettering my career, I regret all of it… I've been losing sleep over it, actually." For a long time, he didn't know what to say. Rowena took the silence as an indicator and went on. "…And now I'm driving you away." She put her hand over her face in a desperate attempt not to cry, but felt her face crumple and her body begin to shake with silent sobs. "I would give anything to get that back."

Crowley froze for a moment at her blatant display of emotion. That was the most he'd ever seen her feel. He opened his mouth to say something but no words would come out. The truth was, he would have given everything to have it back too. He just didn't know how to say that.

"I… I would too." The words were pullled out of him somehow. She looked at him in surprise.

"What?"

"I missed you. Then… Now… That hasn't changed." He had to pull the words out through his teeth. Emotions were incredibly hard for him to express. But his mother's smile made it worth it. She scooted closer to him.

"I miss my wee sausage." She said.

Crowley hesitated, maybe a moment or two, before speaking. "You never lost him."

They shared a look, and then Rowena pressed a gentle and loving kiss to her son's temple.

"I love you, Fergus. That will never change." Crowley moved his hands and placed one over his mother's, smiling a little to himself.

"I know, Mummy. I know." Rowena felt herself grow overwhelmed. Suddenly she was exhausted, weeks of emotional turmoil having taking their toll.

"Maybe we should talk this over tomorrow morning. I'm getting tired." She said.

He nodded, grateful for the interlude. "I'll see you in the morning then."

With that, Crowley left the room


	12. Chapter 11

**Author's Note: Okay, so this chapter didn't come out nearly as good as I hoped it would. Hopefully the next one will be better.**

That night, Rowena could barely sleep. Haunted by the memories and ghosts of arguments and fights with her son, she feared that far from being a good moment, this could be the start of something that could rip apart the fragile sense of peace that was beginning to form between them. She tried to think of something to say to him, but nothing that came to mind seemed quite right. How could she make her son understand her regret? How could she make up for her mistakes? The question loomed over her like a shadow, staying over her all night long. She slept in two hour increments, always waking up because some nightmare jolted her out of sleep's comforting embrace.

Crowley was equally anxious, although he never showed it outwardly. He tried to keep it off of his mind by watching others be tormented, but it always circled back to the same questions. He tried his hardest to remember any instance of childhood affection from his mother, but couldn't find one. He found himself musing what his life might have been if she had shown him love. He wished he had some of those happy memories to hold on to. But there seemed to be no second chances for him. Not unless he made his own.

Finally, It was morning. Rowena checked her clock. It was five thirty, so she figured there was no point in trying to sleep any longer. She got up to use the restroom, and found herself staring at the toilet. If things went sour today there would be no stopping the urges to binge and purge and weigh and use laxatives. She would find her way to get her hands on a scale and some laxatives. And then… then she would patch up the pieces of her life, and move on, with everything as it was before. The thought made her breath still in her throat, and she prayed out loud:

"Oh please let it be a happy ending…" Then, she got into the shower to prepare for the day.

After an hour and a half of showering, shaving, dressing, and putting on makeup, the knock at the door she had been anticipating came. Her heart leapt in her chest, and she hurried to answer it. She smiled when she saw her son, and after the door was closed, enfolded him in an embrace that smelled of Oscar De La Renta signature perfume and just a hint of vanilla.

"Fergus, come in." She said, ushering hm to the couch.

"With pleasure. How are you, Mother?"

"I'm fine. Can I get you some tea?" She inquired. He nodded absently.

"Sure."

She returned to her son with two china cups filled almost to the tipping point with peppermint tea. Crowley nodded his thanks and took a sip. It was Rowena, however, who decided to break the ice.

"So," She began, "let's talk about last night." She said, hoping to sound less nervous than she actually felt. Crowley set his cup on the tiny china plate.

"Alright," He replied. "Where should we start?"

"Well, what are you thinking?"

He hesitated. He wasn't sure what to say without making himself look like an idiot. He reminded himself that he was talking to his mother, and if anyone was going to care less, it was her. "You told me that you thought about how much you missed with me. I was thinking about the same thing. I wish that I could do my childhood over again. I wonder how different I would be this time around…" He trailed off. She reached over and took his hand.

"I thought the same thing." She admitted. "I found a spell that could give you that back, even. But I can't be selfish and expect you to give up your kingdom in an attempt to make me happy. Life just doesn't work that way… although I wish it did. The truth is, Fergus, is that I adored you when you were born. It was the happiest day of my life. But as you grew and I got more into honing my craft I realized that I could be putting you into danger. Someone could use you to hurt me. I couldn't let that happen. So I pushed you away. But I would give everything I own for one more day with that smiling, happy, wee bairn of a boy that you were."

As she spoke the words they painted a picture in his mind. Suddenly, he thought he could recall what she said, and felt an unfamiliar emotion: Happiness. Before he thought, he spoke. "Me too."

They sat in the quiet for a long time. Then, Rowena was struck with an idea. "Well, why can't we?"

"Why can't we what?" He asked, confused.

"Have that day. You said to me once that time was different here. how about one last day for us both? Just to see what it could be."

"Mum, you can't use that spell on me. What if something comes up and someone needs me?"

"I didn't say I'd use the spell." She said. It took him a moment to comprehend her meaning.

"You mean pretend?"

"Why not? No one know's that you're down here or that I am. Whatever happens would be between the two of us only. Don't you want to see what it would feel like for just one day of not being afraid of emotions, and to have uninterrupted time together?"

When she put it that way, it was hard for him to resist. But still, how could she ask him that? To let down his pride and ego for one day of togetherness? He couldn't just shut it down at will. He could feel his mother's eyes on him, soft and pleading. Finally, he spoke.

"I'll think about it and let you know this evening." Rowena nodded, and they went on to talk about other things. When her son finally parted her company, Rowena stood alone in her living room. She paused a moment, maybe two, before looking up and echoing her earlier prayer.

"…Please let it be a happy ending. Please..."


	13. Chapter 12

As Crowley moved from task to task throughout the day, he kept his mother's proposal at the front helm of his mind. It had seemed so bizarre and yet so natural at the same time, and he found himself conflicted by his own emotions as he weighed the pros and the cons of the situation that was now placed before him. When he went out of hell and into the real world, he contemplated the possible futures before him.

On the one hand, he could throw caution to the wind and just do it. No reservations, no cares in the world, no holding back. He could throw himself into this game and that might actually give him some sense of completeness over his rotten childhood. One day could make up for everything he had been missing in his relationship with his mother, and it honestly scared the living hell out of him. He never liked the idea of putting all his eggs in one basket. He was a man who played the field, and examined every outcome so that, come what may, he never completely lost. And considering the stakes of what he had to lose today, that was much more appealing. But there was no surefire way to make sure he won with this. There was no middle ground. It was all or nothing, and he felt almost sick as he realized that whatever happened today was going to change his life, and his relationship with his mother, forever.

Then, the other option popped into his head. He could say no. He could end all the waiting and tension and fear with one word. But how would his choice make his mother feel? And, almost as importantly, how would it make him feel to deny himself that? How would he feel if he hadn't taken that chance? What regrets might he have? And what would he think of himself later on? Would he think himself selfish? Cowardly? A man with no sense of what he really wanted?

He waffled between the two, leaning one way and then the other, unable to see a future where he accepted but also couldn't see one where he didn't. The thoughts swirled around in his mind, until he couldn't tell between the two. He saw a bench near a botanical garden and sat on it, trying to make sense of his thoughts, and- even worse- his feelings.

He tried to separate the two- head and heart. His head gave logical reasons for both, and that didn't help him. So he tried to listen to what his heart said instead. Emotions flew around in circles, and he couldn't separate them. He could name a few- fear, uncertainty, confusion, and worry. The rest were blended to well for him to identify on their own. The funny thing about it was that although he couldn't necessarily identify them, he knew that they weren't his. His emotions were a short list: Anger, boredom, exasperation, and disappointment. These were feelings that never cropped up for him. It had to mean something if he was feeling all of these new things.

He shut his eyes and sighed, letting the sun warm his face. He tried to sweep his mind clean, and tried to see what was left after the emotional wreckage was cleared. Only one image remained there: his mother's face.

For a few long moments, there was nothing. No noise, no outside world, just him and the image. He didn't know what to do with it. And then, in a moment of clarity, he did. He waited a few more minutes before he got up and went back down into hell.

Meanwhile, Rowena found herself pacing her small apartment, walking from room to room to room to room, trying to outrun her anxieties. But no matter where she went, her doubts followed. She worried constantly that she had pushed her son too far. What had she been thinking?! The king of hell would never do what she was asking of him. He was too proud, too old for such nonsense. She kicked herself for thinking it could ever be any different. Although… he had hesitated before answering, and he had said he would think about it. That had to mean something… Didn't it? She felt the beginnings of a headache in her temples and went to go and get some tea and a couple of ibuprofen. When the tea kettle whistled and her temples throbbed at the sound, She poured herself some chamomile and lavender tea and sat at her kitchen table, trying to figure out how to backtrack on what she had said earlier, even though that seemed impossible now. Her mind was reeling, and her stomach was growling. She needed to eat, but she was afraid to. Afraid that her emotions would give way to a binge and then a purge that she wouldn't be able to stop. She took a deep breath and promised herself that after her son left, she would eat.

Almost as soon as the thought crossed her mind, the doorbell rang. Rowena shot up like a rocket to answer it. She yanked the door open, and there stood her son, in a tailored suit and too- expensive shoes.

"Hello, Mummy."

She nodded. "Fergus." She shut the door as calmly as she could. "Would you like some tea?" She called back. "I just brewed a fresh pot."

"That won't be necessary. I don't intend to stay long."

Rowena paled slightly at the words, but nodded and sat at the table.

"I've been thinking about your proposal." He said. She almost choked on her tea at the words.

"And?"

"Okay. We can try."

Rowena felt her heart leap up into her mouth. There were no words to explain her overwhelming joy or relief, but she kept it cool for now.

"How about tomorrow, then?"

He considered that for a fraction of a moment, and then nodded. "Tomorrow it is, then."

Rowena kissed her son's cheek, bade him goodbye, and then closed the door.

This was going to be the best day of her life.


	14. Chapter 13

Rowena spent the rest of the day preparing for what she knew would be the greatest day of her life. When she woke up the next morning there was no doubt in her mind that today that she had been waiting for all her life. She hurried to get ready, and she was so excited that not even one bulimic thought crossed her mind. She was making a few last minute adjustments when the doorbell rang. She heard herself actually squeak with anticipation and practically floated to the door.

Crowley stepped inside. "Mummy." He said cordially.

Rowena kissed his cheek. "Fergus, please come in."

Crowley shuffled awkwardly inside. There were a few moments of quiet before he asked, "So… Where do we start?"

Rowena smiled at him. "I'm glad you asked." She crossed the room to where an old shoe box sat on the table. She picked it up and went over to her son. "It starts with this." She said, handing it to him. He looked down at it confusedly. "Open it." She urged.

He was confused, but he listened to what she said. He pulled off the top of the box and pulled out a ratty piece of fabric, covered with holes and had a dingy coloring to it. He looked at his mother curiously.

"You don't recognize it?" She asked.

"Should I?"

"That was your blanket from when you were a little boy." She said.

Some hazy memory was trying to break through to him. In a move that seemed automatic, he pulled the blanket up to his nose and sniffed it. It brought back a dozen little moments, moments he shouldn't have been able to remember because he had been so young. He thought he could remember things like his mother holding his hand and singing to him and holding him close. Before he realized what he was doing, he found his thumb in his mouth.

He only snapped back to reality when he felt his mother's lips pressing against his forehead. When he realized what he'd been doing, he pulled it out, embarrassed, but Rowena guided it back in. Then, she took him to the couch. They sat down next to one another, and Rowena felt her son's head rest on her shoulder. She gently kissed his head, relishing in the moment. Then, she heard herself beginning to sing his favorite lullaby from when he was a little boy. It calmed him down far more than it probably should have. He saw flashes from childhood that had been buried in his subconscious until now. Running through green fields with the blanket flapping through the breeze, holding it under his nose to smell it for comfort if he'd had a particularly bad day, and rubbing it against his face while he sucked his thumb as a very small child. He remembered that sometimes when he had had nightmares as a boy his mother would spray the blanket with her perfume so that it would be like she was there with him.

How, he wondered, had he let all of these memories slip by him? Where had they been all this time?

The memories told him to just relax and let go. That his mother really did care, and that there was no reason to be frightened or scared or embarrassed. This was his one day of freedom.

Rowena felt her son relax into her, and her deep sense of connection with her son grew stronger. She found her fingers running through his hair. The motion soothed him further, and in that moment, He completely let go of any inhibitions he had left.

Rowena gently moved his head into her lap. Although she knew demons didn't sleep, she could have sworn Fergus was getting tired. He was relaxed at the very least.

"Fergus?" She asked in a high, light voice. "Are you hungry?"

He made a non-commital hum, indicating nothing.

"I have a surprise for you." She said gently. He looked up at her curiously. "Come on." She encouraged. Reluctantly, Crowley got up from his spot on the couch, and followed his mother to the kitchen. Waiting for him on the counter was his favorite childhood lunch. Potatoes, haggis, and milk. Rowena grinned as she watched the smile grow on his face.

She watched as he munched on his favorite meal, and smiled at how happy he was. How could she have let that smile slip away?

She kissed his head again, taking in the scent of him, which, since he had changed vessels, now smelled like char, and something sweet that she couldn't place.

"I love you very much, sweetheart." she whispered.

Crowley leaned his head on her shoulder. "I love you too, mummy."

"Are you tired?" She asked.

He tried to remember what being tired (bodily and not mentally as he often was) felt like, but after three centuries of demonhood, he couldn't place it. So he shrugged instead.

"Do you want to sleep for a little while?" She asked, brushing a lock of hair behind his ear.

Crowley shrugged. It seemed like a nice idea to be able to escape reality for even a few hours. Rowena sat next to him and pressed a finger to his forehead.

"Nunc somnum mea." She whispered.

Suddenly, Crowley felt his eyelids get heavy, and let out a yawn. Sensing his tiredness rapidly increasing, Rowena gently helped him out of the chair, and led him to a room he hadn't seen before, but at this point he was too exhausted to notice or care. He flopped into bed, feeling soft cashmere blankets covering him. He nestled himself inside, not noticing his thumb sneaking into his mouth or himself sniffing his beloved blanket. His eyes fluttered shut almost immediately. The last thing he felt before he drifted off to sleep was someone brushing his hair behind his ear and kissing his forehead. Then, somewhere far above him, he heard a whisper.

"Sleep well my wee sausage. Mummy loves you."


	15. Chapter 14

**Author's Note: To BROSMP: I just had to take a minute and thank you for all of your kind reviews. They really get me through when I'm struggling with a chapter. Reviewers like you are why author's like me do what we do. This one's for you!**

Rowena stayed in the room with her son the entire time he was sleeping. She sat beside him as he dreamed, just as she had once done when he was a very little boy. The whooshing sound of his breath coming in and out calmed her, just as his scent had once done, but since he smelled different now, it didn't have the same effect. She watched his face- peaceful for once instead of contorted with anger or stricken with boredom as it often was. Every tiny move he made fascinated her, as it once had when he was a baby. The idea that she had created a human life all on her own used to amaze her. Now, she wondered where all that wonder had gone. How had it been lost to her all these years? How had she stopped recognizing what she'd had? Well, she wasn't going to take that for granted anymore. She was going to appreciate her baby while she had him. To seal the promise she made to herself, she pressed a kiss to his forehead, careful not to wake him.

When Crowley did awake, it was a few hours later. He opened bleary eyes to a seemingly new world. He could feel that he was covered in warm blankets, and felt something rubbery in his mouth and something soft in one of his hands. He blinked, not really seeing anything until his vision came back into focus. There were white bars around him, and something in one of the corners of the room was moving, but he couldn't see what it was. Instinct taking over, he shot up from his position under the covers. Before he could become panicked and whip himself up into a frenzy, his mother came into his line of sight. Then, he remembered what was going on and visibly relaxed.

Rowena slid down the side of what appeared to be a large crib. As she reached for him, he wondered how he hadn't noticed that before he went to sleep. Had he really been that tired? She helped him onto his feet and he looked around. He had never been in this room before. The white crib was in one corner, and a rocking chair in the opposite one. A tiny bookshelf was next to that, filled with books already. Adjacent to that was a table of sorts, with supplies he couldn't quite see. Then, there was a closet on the back wall, and finally, a dresser next to the crib. Whatever he'd been mindlessly sucking on before, he spat it out.

"What is this place?" He asked, confused and awed at the same time.

Rowena stepped forward. "It's a nursery. I made it for you."

Crowley looked at her confused. "For me?" He parroted. She nodded in confirmation.

"For you. And me. If today goes well and you'd like to do it again, I thought it would be nice to have a place for us to call our own here." She said, uncharacteristically shy.

Crowley was left utterly speechless at the statement. He didn't know what to say. After over three centuries of being angry at his mother and believing the worst of her, something like this was something that could only happen in his most outlandish dreams. And, while they had made serious progress in the past few weeks, something like this was still so… unexpected. It wasn't that he didn't like it- that wasn't it at all. He just… didn't know how to accept it. Rowena seemed to sense this and put a hand on her son's shoulder.

"Fergus, I know that this is a lot to take in. I don't expect you to say anything right away. I can only hope that this can be a fresh start for the two of us."

Crowley struggled with what to say to that. He didn't like emotions at the best of times, and feeling anything other than anger or boredom or exasperation was just plain unnatural for him. But now he found himself feeling something else… Something a lot like love, but mixed with something else. Something he just couldn't name. He tried to find the right words, but none would come. Finally, after a seemingly endless wait, he spoke.

"It feels like it is." He said, quietly. Rowena dared a sideways glance at him and saw her son smiling. It released some of the tension inside of her.

"Do you want to see the rest of the room?" She asked. He nodded, now curious about what else there was to see. She showed him what was inside of the table, and was surprised to find a selection of pacifiers, bottles, and a few other items. He was about to ask what was on the other side of the drawers when he realized what the table was actually supposed to be used for. It was a changing table. He couldn't help but wonder if his mummy had actually gotten him those, but the thought made him blush furiously and he was suddenly too scared to find out. Sensing her son's distress (but not being able to tell what was causing it), she moved on. And then, he noticed for the first time that there was a mobile over the crib. How he hadn't seen that when he had been inside, he would never know. The mobile had stars and moons, and a centerpiece made up of dozens of shining streaks of all colors. They looked like a rainbow from below, he realized. It was beautiful.

Suddenly overwhelmed by his own emotions, he reached out and pulled his mother into an embrace. Rowena, who was still talking and explaining something to him, stopped abruptly and let out a small squeak of surprise as she was being squeezed against her son's chest. She heard him say, in the faintest whisper,

"I love it, Mummy. Thank you."

The quiet admission made her heart leap.

"I love you, Fergus. Very much." She said, voice thick with emotion.

"I love you too."


	16. Chapter 15

**IMPORTANT Author's note: Hey guys! So I've been waiting for almost a week to post tomorrow's chapter, so, depending on how things go with it, I may post another chapter today. So keep your eyes peeled just in case! I hope you love this chapter!**

At first, Crowley really struggled with getting into the right headspace while he was in the nursery. It wasn't that he didn't want to- he really really did- but he couldn't figure out how to be less prideful. Being the king of hell meant that he had higher expectations than most demons, who could spend the day willy-nilly, making deals, and wreaking general havoc. He, of course, was held to a higher standard, and that made finding ways to let loose and be joyful difficult to achieve. But with Rowena's guidance and gentle, nurturing nature, he began finding his way.

To be fair, once he was able to access that part of himself, it became much easier, and their bonding together happened more and more often. It also became easier for him to try new things while in that headspace. Suddenly, he was able to be vocal with his emotions and express them, and his mother never scolded him or made him feel invalidated. The best part for him was when his Mummy had figured out how to shrink his body to that of an actual infant but keep his adult mind in tact. That way she could carry him with no problem at all. Most of the time he preferred to stay his normal size, but sometimes when he wanted cuddles or to be held, Mummy would work her magic and he would be small enough for her to cradle.

Today he was his normal size. It was a Saturday, and he found himself sitting on the floor of the nursery, stacking blocks and sucking contentedly on his pacifier. Rowena had just finished some light housework while her son was otherwise occupied, and went back into the nursery. Passing her son by, she gently ran her fingers through his hair. He smiled up at her from behind his pacifier's mouth guard.

"That looks beautiful, sweetheart." She said. Crowley smiled proudly up at her before he yawned. Rowena checked her watch. It was almost time for his nap. She turned around and started making him a bottle and putting it in the warmer. When she was done, she grabbed it and knelt down next to her son.

"Fergus, how about we have story time together, hmm?" She asked. He nodded. That sounded like a good idea. He got up and followed his mother to the rocking chair and sat in her lap. She handed him his bottle, and began to read, gently rocking back and forth.

"Once upon a time…"

About fifteen minutes later, her son was asleep. She shrunk him down just long enough to get him into his crib before turning him back. Content to watch her son sleep, she pulled out a book and began to read.

Meanwhile, in Lebanon, Kansas, Dean and Sam were in the midst of a case. Sam sat at the table in the men of letters library, trying to figure out how to capture their latest creature. Dean walked in and handed his brother a beer before taking a long draught of his own and sitting with his brother.

"Anything?" He asked.

"Nothing yet." Sam replied, flipping through the pages of another book. Finally, his eyes lit and he found something. "Wait, here's something."

"Well? Let's have it." Dean said impatiently.

"There's a spell that a witch can do to eradicate it. But…"

"But what?"

"She has to be at her full power." Sam said.

"And Rowena doesn't have her full power because of Olivette's spell?"

"Y-Yeah." Sam lied. But the truth was that that wasn't the real problem. The truth was that the witch had to be completely healthy or the spell could have drastic ramifications and not eradicate all of the monsters. And considering what they'd found at her apartment, Rowena was deep in the clutches of Bulimia. What the hell was he going to do?

Dean looked up. "Sammy?"

"Hmmm?"

"You okay?"

"Yeah. Hey, would you mind picking me up something to eat while I try and figure out what to do?"

Dean eyed him suspiciously. "Uh… sure."

"Chicken caesar salad, extra tomato and a vinaigrette on the side."

Dean went up the stairs. Sam waited for him to shut the door before he pulled out his cell phone to call Rowena.

Rowena felt her phone buzzing and quickly exited the nursery to keep her son sleeping.

"Hello?"

"Rowena?"

"Moose. What on earth do you want?"

"I really need to see you."

"How touching. But I'm busy right now."

"I don't think you are."

"Excuse me?"

Sam did not like what he was about to do, but he knew he had to do it. "I know that you're bulimic."

Rowena felt her heart freeze in her chest. "What are you talking about?"

"I saw the laxatives, the diuretics, the emedics, and the scales. I've been quiet and kept this to myself. But if you don't see me then I'll spread this around. Starting with Dean and ending with the Witch community."

Rowena was speechless and angered all at the same time. She wanted to scream, but she didn't dare wake her son.

"Fine." She hissed. "Get down to hell and see me if you want, but you keep your gob shut. I'm in the third door down the hall by the throne room."

"I'll be there in an hour." He said.

She ended the call and in a fit of unchecked rage, chucked her phone at the wall. She moved to the couch and slowly sank down onto the cushions with tears streaming down her face. What the hell was she going to do? For a long while, she just sat there and cried, unable to believe that she might have her darkest secret revealed. Then, after a few minutes, she pulled herself together, and prepared herself for the worst.

She would not let herself be blackmailed or let her son be found out. Sam Winchester was going to pay for this if it was the last thing she ever did


	17. Chapter 16

**Author's Note: okay, so this chapter that I was planning the whole time ended up taking more than one chapter. It might be two or even three. So here is part one! Enjoy!**

Rowena tried to arm herself to prepare for what she was sure would be an assault on her image. She locked all of her doors, except the one that led to the nursery. There was a small baby monitor attached to the crib, and she took it's twin and used a bit of magic to make it into a wrist watch that would alert her when her son was awake, and play whatever sounds he was making into a bluetooth earpiece she had tucked into one ear. And just to be safe, she enchanted her son to appear as old as he acted- just as an extra precaution. She could only hope he didn't wake while Sam was there. Then, anything that could even be remotely connected with a disorder, she hid away somewhere Sam wouldn't dare go.

Her preparations were interrupted by a knock at the door.

She went to the door and sucked in a breath, and then opened it. "Moose." She greeted sharply. "What the hell do you want?"

"I won't tell you until you let me in."

"This is my house. You have no business asking to be let in here."

"I do when I know your secret." He said. Rowena stayed still for a moment before letting him inside, shutting the door behind him, and locking it. She turned around and crossed her arms.

"What?" She asked pointedly.

"We're hunting a monster and it needs a witch to eradicate it." He began.

"That's all? You could have just called me." She said, angry.

"That's not why I came…" He said hesitantly. She raised an eyebrow and he continued. "The spell… It needs a witch at her most healthy. Otherwise it might not get all of them out." He watched her face for a reaction. There was none. "Because you're a bulimic you've done so much damage to your body, and even magic can't fix all of that. Not that I'd trust you on that anyway. Rowena, you need to go and get treatment for your eating disorder." He said.

For a second or two, there was nothing, and then absolute rage filled her face.

"Who the hell do you think you are?!" She spoke as loud as she dared. "You come into my house demanding my help and order me to go and get treatment when we both know you don't care about me at all?!"

"This isn't about you. People are getting killed, and if you don't help they'll die."

"It is about me!" She yelled. "You're blackmailing me to get help and trying to use me to fix your problems!"

"Don't you want help?" He demanded.

"I don't need it! I stopped on my own. I haven't purged in over a month!"

"That doesn't mean that you're better!"

"What the hell do you care? You'd be happy if this disorder killed me, because I'd be one less problem for you to worry about!"

"That is not true!" He said. She stared him down for a long moment.

"Yes it is."

"Rowena, if you don't get help today than I won't keep your secret. I'll make sure that everyone knows- Dean, Cas, and even Lucifer if it came down to it. I will personally make sure that you won't be able to set foot in hell without someone knowing about this. I will make your life a living hell. And I will do whatever I have to to make you regret not helping me."

Rowena was reeling from a combination of shock and Sam's words. Her frustration was building and tears threatened her eyes.

"You can't do this to me!" She shouted. Sam stayed still.

"I think I can." He said. "It's your choice, Rowena. You can kick me out of here and get your secret out, or you can go to treatment and I'll keep quiet."

"Okay, I'll stop. I will never purge again if that's what you want. But please… I can't leave here." Her voice broke at the end.

"Why not?" He asked.

Rowena shook her head. "I can't tell you."

Sam rolled his eyes. "You're making excuses-"

"I'm not!" She cut him off swiftly. "I can't leave right now. I can't. And I can't tell you why." She finished quietly. "Please… I can't leave."

Sam was quiet. He had never, ever in his life heard Rowena beg. He didn't know that she was even capable of that kind of humanity. More so, he couldn't believe himself. Dean was usually the blackmailer who fearlessly and unashamedly used people without ever feeling remorse. His brother must have been rubbing off on him more than he thought. He told Dean after he had brought his dinner and eaten that he needed to run an errand, and that he might be gone for a day or so. Dean, although skeptical of his motives, had given him the okay and he had taken the Impala down to the nearest entrance to hell. Since he was a Winchester and Lucifer's Vessel he was by default someone to be feared in the demon community and because of that none of the demons questioned what he was doing when he came down there. He had been a man on a mission, but now he had been frozen in his tracks by the glimpse of humanity that he had found in a witch.

Rowena felt her heart pounding like a jackhammer in her chest. Sam Winchester was slowly backing her into a corner and cutting off any possible route of escape. Her fear for her secret was there, but the most prominent fear of all was of her relationship with Fergus being found out. She had to protect him no matter what the cost. She may have been a witch and a bulimic, but she would always be a mother first and foremost. She softened her glance.

"Please." She begged once more.

Sam opened his mouth to try and respond, when suddenly a baby's cry could be heard through the walls.


	18. Chapter 17

**Author's Note: Hello all! Just to let you know that one of my personal favorite OC's is making a comeback! If you want to learn more about him, check out Through The Looking Glass! If you're not up for that, fear not! We shall go in depth about him here too! Enjoy!**

 **WARNING: this chapter contains violent imagery and references to rape. Reader discretion is advised.**

Rowena shot up from her seat on the couch before remembering the moose in the room. She turned to Sam before he could get a word out.

"Stay here. I'll be back." She said. Turning she swiftly walked out of the room. Rowena hurriedly got to the nursery door, not realizing that she had a china cup of tea in her hand and that she was close to hyperventilating. She went inside of the door, closed it in case Sam were to follow her, and looked over at where the cries of her child came from.

Then, she saw that someone else was in the room. a man with brown hair and blue eyes wearing an expensive looking suit was holding her son and giving her a crooked grin.

"Hello, Rowena." Said the smooth voice. Her eyes widened. She knew that voice. But she hadn't heard it in over two hundred and eighty years. Her eyes widened, her heart began pounding, and she dropped the glass that had been in her hand, and screamed.

Sam leaped into action the second he heard the shriek. He tried to open the door where he heard it came from but it was locked. He banged on the door with his palm.

"Rowena?! Rowena, let me in!" He called.

But Rowena didn't hear him. Her eyes were locked on the man in the room holding her baby.

"What, you don't remember me?" He asked.

Of course she remembered him. "Angus… w-what are you doing here?" She asked quietly.

"I missed you, so I thought I'd drop in and say hi. See how you were doing. But I see you've been busy."

Visions of abuse flashed in her mind.

 _Flash_ Angus beating her because dinner was late.

 _Flash_ Angus calling her a fat, ugly idiot

 _Flash_ Angus ripping her dress as he began to forcibly undress and rape her.

She swallowed the lump in her throat and spoke up. "Angus, put the baby down." She said.

"I don't know. We were just about to have some fun together." He said.

"It's me you want to make suffer. I'll do whatever you want, but please put him down!"

His eyes flashed something dark and terrible. "Anything?" his voice was a low growl.

She forced herself to nod, despite her fear. Slowly, he nodded, and put the still screaming baby in the crib. Then, he turned to her, eyes hungry and vicious. He lunged at her like a cheetah and grabbed her by the throat before slamming her into the wall.

"It's been a long time, baby. Almost three hundred years." He said before he smashed his lips to hers. She struggled under him, but his grasp on her was iron clad. Suddenly he grabbed a fistful of her hair and pulled it, making her shriek. He pulled his lips from hers. "Be quiet and shut up or the baby gets it."

She felt tears streaming down her cheeks as she felt him trying to pull her dress down from the shoulders. she heard the fabric rip and tear. Then, his lips were off of hers and he struck her hard enough to topple her onto the ground.

"You're ruining it!" He screamed.

"I'm sorry." She apologized. He kicked her in the stomach and knocked all of the air out of her lungs.

"You're going to be sorry when I'm done with you!" He screamed. She put her hands up to try and block his attack, but he was far stronger than she. She wanted to use a spell to try and make him stop, but her mind was drawing a blank. Then, the verbal assault began. "You stupid, ugly, fat bitch!" He cried. "You fucked me over!"

"I didn't!" She swore. "You left me! I didn't leave you! I swear! I wouldn't do that! I wanted our baby to have a father!" She lied.

"Our baby is dead! And now I find out you have another one with someone else?! Who's is it, you filthy whore?! Who the hell did you fuck with?! Tell me! TELL ME!" He screamed as loud as he could, punching her again.

"NO! I WON"T!" She screamed. Angus let out the most angry, ugly whooping sound she had heard. He tackled her to the ground and started in on what he had began earlier, and began his sexual assault on her.

While all of this was happenning, Sam was trying to break down the door. But doing it alone was hard. Still, he heard the screams, the yelling, the sobbing, and he had to stop it.

Finally, after too many tries to count, the door was down. Then, he came to face one of the ugliest things he had ever seen. Rowena was being raped.

He ogled for a second, just long enough to hear her attacker say, "You're such a fat, ugly cow."

Then, sam was pulling him off of her and getting into a fight with him, eventually knocking him out. He stared at Rowena, who stared at her attacker, paralyzed with shock. Then, suddenly, she snapped back to reality. She picked herself up from the ground and stumbled as she made her way over to the crib.

"Oh. Oh, no. No, no, no, no, no. Fergus? Fergus! Come on, honey, it's okay. Come on, baby. Fergus? Oh, sweetheart. Come on. Come on, honey. It's okay." She said as she picked up her baby boy and cuddled him in her arms. Sam, who had been listening with half an ear, tuned in completely when he heard what came next. "It's alright baby. Daddy won't ever hurt you again. I promise, sweetheart. Mummy's here. Mummy's right here, baby. I'll always be right here." She promised him as she bounced him in her arms, completely oblivious to Sam being in the room at that point. She heard dragging and assumed that Angus was being taken away. Fergus, exhausted from his crying, fell back asleep, and Rowena tucked him in.

Then, turning around, she saw Sam staring at her from the doorway


	19. Chapter 18

Rowena felt her anxiety shoot up her spine and spread out to coat her body. She felt her heart palpatate, and her palms become sweaty, both from what she had just endured and for what she was about to face. She looked down at herself and saw her dress ripped and tattered. She decided to change first before she surrendered herself to the inquisition of one overstepping, nosy Sam Winchester. She went into her bedroom, selected a new dress for herself, and paused. She considered having a shower. She wanted to scrub away the feeling of Angus' hands all over her and erase the image of him holding her child. Suddenly she wanted to give Fergus a bath too, and somehow replace his skin so that it wouldn't have been contaminated by his father's touch, but considering She needed him asleep for now, she decided to risk it later. Then, gathering her courage, she went back out into the living room.

Sam sat on the couch, waiting for her. His expression was inscrutable as he watched her come and sit beside him.

For a moment, there was quiet. Then, Sam started in on her.

"What happened in there? Who is Angus, and why in the name of hell is Crowley a baby?!"

Rowena felt her heart skip a beat. She forced herself to breathe. In and out. Once, Twice, again. She got her heart rate under control. Then, when she felt that her composure was back, she began to tell her tale.

"I have a story for you, Moose. Get comfortable, because it's a bit Long." She said. "Once upon a time a long time ago, there was a young girl who grew up on a farm. When the girl was five years old, her mother died. Her father, who used to be loving and kind to the girl, became angry, abusive, and absent. Every night he would leave and the girl would wait until he came home. He would be drunk by the time he got back, and would treat the girl very badly. He remarried shortly after, but the stepmother never stopped him from hurting her. She stayed there until she was eighteen years old, and her father hired a farm hand to help with the labor.

The boy was charming and sweet, and made the girl feel beautiful. She believed that he would take care of her all of her days. One day the two of them finally had enough money to leave, and they moved to another house in the village. But once they were alone together, the man's personality was revealed. He was a cold, cruel man who treated the girl the same way her father had. The girl developed a serious eating disorder, but kept it a secret from the farm boy, afraid that he might use it against her. The girl wanted to escape, but she knew she had nowhere to go. It was either stay with him or go home to her father. And she refused to let him know that she had failed. Over the next few weeks she got very sick, and thought that perhaps she was dying. But as time went on, she realized that it wasn't a sickness. She realized that she was pregnant. She could picture that baby inside of her, and wanted to give it a better life. She had the talents of a natural witch, and knew that the only way to save her baby was to use it.

So one day while her boyfriend was away, she learned a spell that would make him stop hitting her. And it worked. She had hoped that now that he wasn't hurting her that they could be a family, but when the time came, he decided to leave her. It broke her heart. And she was afraid that that baby boy would hurt her just like every other man in her life had. She learned to hate him instead of loving him like she should have. But somewhere deep inside, she knew that she still loved him. One day, she decided to give herself and him a second chance and try and be the mother he deserved. By some miracle, he forgave her, and they began to try and repair their relationship. One of the ways they tried to do that with was through Regression Therapy. They found this so helpful that the mother and the boy decided to make it a habit- something special they could share together. But they kept it a secret because they both knew that if they were found out life would never be the same for either of them. And in the end, their secret was kept that way because the one person who knew about it kept their mouth shut. The end."

Sam gaped at her. For a long time, he had to process her words. He was searching for the right ones when Rowena spoke up again.

"Sam, you're the only one who knows about all of this. Do you understand now why I can't leave?" She asked. She turned in the direction of the nursery. "I can't leave him. He needs me."

Sam finally found his voice. "You're right. He does need you. He needs you to take care of him, he needs you to love him, he needs you to protect them. That's why you need to go to treatment. So that you can get better for him."

Rowena's head snapped back to Sam. "But he needs me."

"Crowley can take care of himself, especially when you remove whatever spell you put on him."

Her cheeks flamed red. "I didn't!" She protested. Okay, it wasn't entirely true, but his choice of behavior was his alone.

"You did. And I understand why you did. But you need to get healthy for him. How can you take care of him if you can't even take care of yourself?" He asked. Then he moved over to touch her shoulder. "It's time to say goodbye."

Then, he exited to the kitchen to leave Rowena with her thoughts.


	20. Chapter 19

**Author's Note: How I managed to write a chapter while going to SPN Con, I will never know. If there are any delays in posting in the next day or two, that's why. Enjoy the chapter!**

Rowena sat on her couch, unable to come to terms with what had just been said to her. She had heard Sam's words, but they hadn't sunk in for her. Not yet. Despite the words not registering she couldn't help the unchecked tears that were streaming down her cheeks. What had just happened? She didn't know. She put her hands to her forehead, and let emotion carry her away. For a long time, there was only herself and the blackness that desperately wanted to find a way to consume her.

Over and over her mind sought some sort of release, and every time her mind went back to one thing: food. There was a chocolate cake left on the kitchen counter. How she yearned to walk in and shovel it into her mouth forkful by forkful until not even a crumb remained! And then she would have some chips, then maybe ice cream, and then some pretzels, and finish it off with some ice cream.

And then, with all of those calories polluting her insides, she would run to the bathroom and force herself to vomit until her eyes were socketed and red and her throat and nose were burning. Then, maybe she could have some peace.

But she couldn't do those things, because Sam was in her way. He was blocking her route to the kitchen, and she knew if she tried to go purge he'd grab her before she even got halfway to the bathroom, so she sat there, paralyzed by grief and fear. Until finally, she made herself go into the nursery.

Rowena saw her son sleeping contentedly, and heart plummeted into her stomach as the reality of what was happening sank in. Numbly, she went over to the crib and took a closer look at him. For a minute, she just stared at him before renewed tears started leaking from her eyes and sobs began to wrack her body. She cried, feeling more terrified than she ever had in her entire life. Her abuser was back, her baby needed her, and she was being forced to leave him behind. It was the cruelest torment that she could ever imagine. It felt like her heart was slowly being torn apart piece by piece and then thrown into a fire to burn into nothingness. The pain was crippling her, but she knew that Sam was expecting her out in the living room. She had to move- no matter how much she didn't want to. So she went back out to Sam, who was standing there in the kitchen, obviously expecting her.

"Can I wait until his nap is over to tell him and leave?" She asked, features soft and pleading. He tried to smile at her, but knowing what he was doing to her and to her son tempered any good feelings he may have had left. He nodded. She went down the hall and gently opened his door. There lay her baby boy, sleeping like an angel. Ironic. The thought would have made her smirk if the situation hadn't been so tragic. She sat down in the nearby rocking chair, watching him sleep. He looked so innocent and peaceful. It broke her heart to know that in less than an hour she was being forced to steal that peace away from him. Every small move fascinated her, just as it had when he was a baby. The overwhelming love that she had for him was matched by none. There was nothing she wouldn't do for him.

Her son began to stir, and she plastered a smile on her face as his eyes opened. She planted a kiss on his forehead.

"Good afternoon, sweetheart. It's time to get up now." She said quietly. He murmured something inaudible from behind his pacifier. She changed him as he slowly woke up from his nap, trying to memorize every precious contour of his face. When she finished, she led him to the rocking chair. She cuddled him close to her and sniffed his head, just as she had all those years ago. The scent calmed her as it has so long ago. She took in a deep breath before she began speaking to her child, choosing her words carefully. She did not see the large frame of Sam Winchester fill her doorway.

"Fergus," she said, making her voice light and airy. "Can you look at me for a minute, dearie?"

He did, chocolate brown eyes boring into her soul.

"Mummy has to talk to you about something, okay?" She asked, her voice high and light as though her voice could lighten the impact of what she was about to say. The change in her voice alerted Crowley that something wasn't quite right. She sounded funny. He looked up at her, confused. What was going on?

Rowena tried (and failed) to swallow the lump in her throat. She had to continue before she lost her nerve.

"Do you remember how Mummy has been sick lately?" She asked. He nodded, face becoming almost comically serious. "Well... you see... the thing is..." for a moment she faltered, tried to push off her guilt. Barely holding back her tears, she went on.

"Mummy has to go away for a while."

She heard the hitch in his breath and felt her heart shatter as she tried to ease his pain.

"It's just for a little while, baby. I need to get better for you. When Mummy gets healthy we can do more fun things together. I promise."

Her son launched himself into her chest to cry. She wrapped her arms tightly around him, and heard his quiet, heart wrenching plea.

"Please don't go, Mummy. Please." He begged.

Rowena felt tears stream down her face but didn't let them enter her voice. She looked at Sam even when she spoke to her son.

"I know, baby. I wish I didn't have to."

Crowley clung tightly to her, crying himself out. When there was nothing left in him, Rowena gently pulled his face away so that she could see it, touched her nose to his , and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

"I need you to be a big boy while I'm gone. Can you do that for me?" He nodded, hiccuping. "The second I get back we'll play, okay?"

He nodded. "O-Okay."

She held him just a tad longer. Then, preparing for the inevitable, she helped him dress before saying her final goodbyes.

"Mummy loves you so much, Fergus."

"I love you too, Mummy."

With one last loving look at her son, she shut the door to the nursery behind her


	21. Chapter 20

After the door closed behind her, Rowena stood there a minute, not sure of what to do with herself. She felt the tears streaming down her face and tried to contain her sobbing so that her son wouldn't hear her distress and panic further. She clamped a hand over her mouth and turned around so that Sam couldn't see her if he happened to be there. She rested her head against the door and slowly sank down to her knees, one hand sliding down alongside her head. She wished that she could reach through the door and just hug her son, but she didn't want to damage him any further.

For a long time she sat there, trying to get a hold of her emotions, and trying to find some way to avoid this altogether. But it seemed as though this was inevitable. Truthfully, a voice in the back of her head kept telling her that this had been a long time coming. But still, she agonized over why this was happening now when things were finally starting to go right in her life. The feeling of her heart breaking inside of her was overwhelming. But after a while, she got herself mostly under control. But when she turned around, Sam was there. Anger and rage swept through her in a sudden burst and took the form of tears. She stared at him, makeup ruined, and asked him tearfully,

"What did you do?"

She walked past him, not giving him a chance to answer. She didn't dare turn back. She walked down the hallway of hell. Sam passed her at some point and she followed him through hell until they reached the Impala. She reluctantly got into the passengers seat, imbued with the knowledge that now that she had gotten in the car, she had sealed her fate. Her life was never going to be the same now. The people at the treatment center would take away all of her choices, and all of her freedom. Just like Angus had all of those years ago. Even when she left she knew there would be meal plans to follow and orders to obey. It frightened her to be powerless. She protected her independence like a crown jewel, and to have it taken away was both scary and mortifying.

But overwhelming all of that, was the absolute depression that came with knowing that she had to leave her baby behind. The look on his face when she had told him she was going to treatment had utterly shattered her. The knowledge that she was forcing him to deny a part of himself until her return also devastated her, although she knew that the fault on that one didn't necessarily lie with her but with Sam. Still, her guilt remained.

Sam slamming the car door after putting her belongings in the trunk snapped her back to reality. There was an awkward silence between them as he turned the key and the engine roared to life.

"I'm glad you made the right choice." He said. She turned her head slowly toward him, eyes boring into him.

"Who says this is the right choice?" She asked. Sam began driving and did not answer her.

The two of them engaged in a hostile silence that covered the car. Sam didn't try to be nice and make small talk with her. He knew enough to know that now was the time to keep his mouth shut. He had gotten his way, and that was enough. A part of him felt the need to be in combat with Rowena. The part that said never trust a witch. But after all he had done to her, he knew that he ought to have a little mercy on her and give her the benefit of the doubt. Underneath that, though, he wondered continuously what she was thinking about.

Rowena watched the scenery around her change from the Impala window as she was shipped off to treatment. Her thoughts constantly fluctuated between fear of going to treatment, guilt for leaving her son, and anger at Sam for managing to rope her into all of this. However, as the trip wore on she found her anger slowly ebbing away and being replaced with a hollow indifference.

The drive to Wickenburg took all night and part of the next day, but for Rowena it seemed to go by in the blink of an eye. They went along a secluded dirt road that led up to The Taylor Center For Eating disorders. It looked like a ranch. There was a brown building ahead of them that had a fountain and cacti in front of it. Then there were two gazebos in a grassy area beside it. Then there was another brown building with glass doors that had the company name inscribed on them. Finally, there was a ranch next to that, with several horses from what she could tell.

Sam pulled into the parking lot and shut off the car engine. The silence between them lasted a beat before he spoke.

"I called ahead to let them know you were coming."

She nodded absently. The silence stretched out, and neither of them was too sure of what to say.

"Do you need help unloading your things?" He asked.

She sighed. "Fine."

He got out of the car and unloaded her luggage, and she stepped out of the car and into the blazing Arizona sunshine.

He handed her the bags, and for the first time since leaving hell, she looked him in the eye.

"You should be ashamed of yourself. You destroyed everything that I worked so hard to build. I was making my own recovery and you threw it away and decided that it wasn't; good enough for you. And you made me leave my son. I hope you're proud of yourself."

Sam said nothing. He opened up the driver's side door. Before he entered, he murmured, "Get well soon", and then drove off, leaving Rowena at the front door.


	22. Chapter 21

For a moment Rowena was unsure of what to do. There was the possibility of running away but she knew that if she did Sam Winchester would most likely find out, and then who knew what would happen. She could only imagine the kind of torment he could have waiting for her. It sent a chill up her spine just imagining it. Then, suddenly, the doors opened, and a man and a woman walked out. The man wore a striped short sleeved polo shirt and had a smile on his face that Rowena was instantly wary of. Then there was a woman next to him. She was heavyset with a round, moon shaped face, glasses, and black, shiny hair held half up with a silver barrette clip. She grinned at her, and she was bewildered by that. She preferred not to have contact with other women, but when it did happen it almost always felt like she was in some sort of competition with them.

"Are you Rowena?" Asked the rounder man with a gray beard, pot belly, and sparkling blue eyes.

"Yes." She said, slowly.

"My name's John. I'm one of the aides here at TCED, and this is my partner Brianna."

"Nice to meet you." She said numbly as she shook their hands.

"Come on in and get out of the heat." Reluctantly, she followed him into the doors. A large desk greeted her when she entered, and a woman with light red hair and glasses was shuffling papers when she saw her.

"Hello, Rowena. My name is Gabrielle, and I'm the admissions coordinator here at Taylor Centers For Eating Disorders. We're so pleased to have you here." She said, shaking her hand. "If you'll come with me to my office, I have some paperwork for you to fill out."

Rowena followed her, figuring that if there was any chance of getting out of this, it was now. She closed the door behind her. Gabrielle sat behind her desk.

"Let me just pull up these papers and then we'll get started." She said. Rowena took a seat. "Alrighty. Now, this is a form giving us your consent to treat you. If you sign on the pad here, and initial and date right there, that would be great."

Now was her chance. "Miss Gabrielle, there's been a mistake here. I don't have an eating disorder. The bampot who brought me here just thinks I do, and he's trying to use it to blackmail me. He took me away from my baby, and he's just a little boy. He hasn't even reached his second birthday. He needs me. Please, I need to get back home to my boy."

Gabrielle sat her pen down. "Ms. MacLeod, we can't treat you without your consent. The only way anyone can force you into treatment is if you are declared incompetent and have a medical power of attorney who makes those decisions on your behalf. I can't force you to stay here, and neither can anyone else. You have to make the choice on your own. You can leave here, and things will be the way they've always been for you, no matter what that means. Or you can stay here and try out a different way of living. It's entirely up to you."

But it's not! She wanted to scream. There were so many factors at play here. Sam's blackmailing was just the tip of the iceberg. There was her being forcibly taken away from her son, and the knowledge that somewhere that was buried too deep inside of her to be conscious that knew that Sam Winchester was right- she had an eating disorder. But she didn't want treatment for it. Because deep down, She knew that someday, her luck may run out and her son may leave her, and then she would have nothing left but that. It was her last defense against potential heartache. She couldn't handle it if she was left naked and exposed.

"If I lose this, I'll have nothing." She surprised herself by saying aloud.

"You're wrong." Gabrielle said gently. She pushed the papers and pen over to the other side of the desk. "If you lose this, you'll gain everything. It will be hard work. I know there will be times when you'll want to quit. You'll want to go back to your old habits because it's comfortable and safe. And when you feel like that, our aides are there to help you through it. We can help you find who you are outside of this disorder. It doesn't have to control your life. You can be someone else. Someone better. And when you get better, your family will still be there. But I know how hard it is to be away from your children. And I understand that residential treatment is a big step. But believe me when I tell you that you are in the right place. And we'd really love to have you here."

Rowena felt herself falter. The desire to stay sick and the desire to know what other life there is were fighting it out for control of her body and mind. She felt her hand shaking ever so slightly, and for a moment all she wanted was to run outside and go back home. But Some part of her made her stop, made her stay. Her hand shakily reached forward toward the pen on the desk, and she was almost afraid to touch it because reality felt like a dream.

Her fingers wrapped around the cool metal of the pen. It felt heavy in her hand, like the weight of her entire life was in this pen. Then, slowly, She put the tip of the pen to the paper. It seemed like an eternity later, when she finally finished signing her name. She exhaled a breath that she hadn't realized that she had been holding. It was over and done with.

Now there was no turning back. She was in treatment for good.


	23. Chapter 22

After signing dozens of forms in a seemingly endless loop, Rowena found that she was finally done. Gabrielle took the forms and filed them, and then stood up.

"How about I give you the tour of the grounds?" She said. Rowena nodded. Gabrielle led her into the halls. "This is our dormitory. This is where our guests sleep. They're close to the nurses' station. That's where you'll go to take the medications your doctors here prescribe you. The bathrooms are down that way, and down that corridor are the doctor's offices. Your psychiatrist Dr. Fields will be waiting for you in that room over there after this tour. Then tomorrow you'll see your physician Dr. Eldridge. She led Rowena out to the front doors from whence she came. She pointed to the gazebos she'd seen when she first came in. "Those are the gazebos. One is for smoking and the other one is for nonsmokers. A lot of our guests like to spend time out here for some peace and quiet. You can come out whenever you like as long as you tell an aide. Over there," She called, pointing to the other building, "Is our community center building. That's where you'll be spending most of your time during the day. We recommend that you bring whatever you'll need for the day over here because most of the time the nurses won't let you back into your room." Then, she pointed over the fenced area. "Over there is our ranch. We have a horse named Jack, two miniature horses named Rosie and Sam, and our two goats named Billy and Bob. We use them all for equine therapy."

Rowena was a bit turned off by the ranch area. The smell of the horses and the goats reminded her of her family's old farmhouse, and the first time that she saw Angus. She quickly turned around, but Gabrielle didn't catch it. Gabrielle checked her watch. "Well, our time here is just about up. I think it's time to take you to Dr. Fields. She'll be in her office waiting for you. Would you like me to walk you there?"

"No, thanks. I remember the way." She said.

She followed the hallway to the open door on the left. A blonde haired woman with freckles along her arms was seemingly waiting for her.

"Rowena MacLeod?"

She nodded, bobbing her head up and down. The doctor stood up.

"I'm Dr. Lindsey Fields. I'll be your psychiatrist while you're here. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"You as well." She said, Sitting down.

The doctor followed suit. "Can you tell me a little bit about why you're here?"

Rowena toyed with the small necklace around her neck. "I was blackmailed in to coming here quite honestly. I had to leave my son, my home, everything…" She said quietly.

"But yet you're still here." She said slowly.

"Because I know the sooner I do this the sooner I'll be home with my son."

"Well that's a wonderful thing. But you need to not do this just for your son. You have to do it for yourself too."

Rowena avoided eye contact with her. She couldn't say that she knew she was right, because although she did, she didn't know if she wanted this recovery badly enough.

Dr. Fields continued on. "So, let's get started. Tell me about your previous medical history."

So she went on to speak about her childhood illnesses and her family's medical history. When she spoke of her son though, Dr. Fields noticed how her voice changed. It was something she could never quite put into words- the absolute assurance of a mother's love. She could see the clear love and adoration for her son in her face. It was the one time during their entire session she saw her newest patient smile. When she had finished her evaluation- Severe Bulimia Nervosa- She sent Her to meet with her nurse and a phlebotomist who took her blood. Then, When she was finished there, John and Brianna took her to what would become her room, and they searched her luggage. Then, after her few possessions were deemed harmless and her therapist approved the books that she brought, she was left to unpack her things in peace. She hung her clothes in a closet that was way too cramped for her liking, and felt awful. There were four beds in the room, and the knowledge that she would have to give up her privacy was terrifying.

Then, when she was done, she met her dietician, Miss Parker. She explained her eating habits and in doing so helped her dietician make up an individualized meal plan for her. In doing so, she gave her three dislikes to add to her list. She chose carrots, pickles, and green beans- her three most despised foods. Then she met up with her therapist Dr. Swan, who used the time she had with her to try and get a general sense of why she was there. Finally, She was taken into a room in the community center building that was covered with huge round tables and large, ornate chairs and chandeliers. The tables were packed with people. Mostly girls who were decades younger than her, but there were a few boys there too. The aides came out and shook her hand, and then, made an announcement.

"Everyone, This is Rowena."

"Hi Rowena." They all said in unison before returning to her food. Then, she gave her a banana, some yogurt, and a small bag of goldfish. She was seated at the only table with a free chair. Everyone there was skinnier than her, and she couldn't help but feel like a heifer. Still, she settled in to eat her snack. But over and over, no matter how hard she tried to tell herself that she had done the best thing for herself and for her child, only one phrase kept repeating in her mind.

What have I gotten myself into?


	24. Chapter 23

The first week of treatment was by far the hardest for Rowena. Trying to understand the routine and dynamics of a place she didn't want to be was awful. But that added with being forced to eat foods she didn't like and being prompted to share her feelings at every group was a closing in of pressure on her. She felt like she was going to explode. And with any time she wanted to explode, there was only one way she had ever known to release that building tension: purging.

But there was absolutely no way of that happening. The bathrooms were locked, and when they were in the restroom, they were monitored. They weren't allowed to flush until the monitor had seen that they hadn't purged. Even in the dormitories the bathrooms were monitored by the nurses. There was no chance of her getting all of the horrible food that was polluting her insides out of herself. With three meals and three snacks a day, she felt like they were treating her like a prized pig, filling her up and stuffing her with food for a fair. Soon her body would blow up into a balloon, and she would be fat and ugly, just like she had always had nightmares about.

The only thing that made sense to her in this dark and confusing point in her life was her son.

Every day she wrote him a letter telling him about her day, spilling her frustration, fear, anger, and longing into pieces of lined notebook paper. And every day her guilt that she could not be there to take care of him festered. When her guilt was not crushing her into dust and breaking her like a twig, she pined for time with her little boy. She could survive any of this- all of this- if she had her baby with her. It was a sentiment she shared often with her doctors. The one consensus that her entire treatment team had made was that when speaking of her son or talking about him, her entire attitude seemed to change. She always seemed to become more motivated when it came to him.

So, after one week in treatment, they all agreed to see if it would be in Rowena's best interest to have visitors. But only her son and one other person. They all wanted her son to come on his own, but seeing as he was only a baby, other supervision would have to be arranged.

When Dr. Swan brought up the idea to her, Rowena was delighted. That night she used her first 15 minute phone pass to call Sam Winchester and beg him to bring her son down here. Of course there would be a bit of magic involved in making him the correct age that she had told everyone about, but that was nothing that she couldn't do in a pinch. After begging, pleading, and threatening to turn Dean into an actual squirrel, Sam reluctantly agreed to bring her son down to see her.

She excitedly used her last five minutes of phone time to call her son. Although she could tell that he was controlling himself because he was at work, she could tell he couldn't wait to see her. When she went to bed that evening, for the first time in a week, she smiled.

That next week went by slower than molasses for her. She found her excitement and optimism growing with every day. When the night before finally came, She could barely sleep a wink. She was awake when the sun rose, and was showered and dressed before anyone else. She went to the community center building and took a seat where she spent the morning staring down the clock.

Finally, around eight o'clock, she heard the sound of tires crunching on gravel, and she jumped out of her chair. The aides didn't bother to try and stop her. As many of them were women and mothers themselves, they knew they would have done exactly what she was doing had they been in her shoes. Rowena bolted outside to see the impala in the dirt lot, and heard the engine shut off. Then the door opened, and Sam stepped out. Then, Getting open the back door, he unbuckled a one and a half year old Crowley from his car seat before setting him on the ground and closing the door. The second he saw his mother, he began toddling towards her. She crouched down and opened her arms to her baby, smiling so widely that it hurt.

As he made his way over to her, Fergus made the small error of stepping just in front of a larger raised rock. His smaller uncoordinated body tried to step forward, but couldn't get over it. He tripped, scraped both of his knees on the way down on the hot gravel. Rowena saw it happen as if it were in slow motion. Then, after the second of shock had passed, He let out a wail and started to cry.

Rowena bolted over to her baby and scooped him into her arms, pulling her son close to her chest.

"Oh Fergus, what happened?" She cooed. "Did that mean old rock scratch you? Did you get a wee cut?" She said, bouncing him gently in her arms. "Oh hold still, sweetie, hold still. Mummy will make it all better."

She went inside and asked for some Neosporin and two bandaids. She sat down at one of the tables and Rocked her son. "There there, sweetheart. It's alright. Now this might sting a little." She warned before she sprayed both cuts. His cries grew for a second, then lessened as she put his bandaids on. Then, she kissed both knees. Then, his cries began to lessen. She sniffed his head, breathing in the scent that was one hundred percent her baby. Then, she cradled him, sang to him, and rocked him until he finally ended up falling asleep.


	25. Chapter 24

The community room was quiet and empty in the late morning hours at Taylor Centers For Eating Disorders. Most of the patients are off doing group therapy with their aides keeping sharp eyes on them. Only one patient remained at the tables. Rowena MacLeod sat at the table, cradling her sweet baby boy in her arms as he slept. The little boy in her grasp knew no sorrow or pain, only the warmth and comfort of his mother's arms and her unconditional love. There was no bothersome plan by the devil to thwart or no hunt to join. The aides had gone into their office to try and do some paperwork, and Sam had made some sort of cockamamie excuse to leave so that he didn't have to be around Rowena. It was just Mommy and Baby, just as Rowena preferred it.

Rowena did not move, and kept her breathing as motionless as she could. Being able to watch her baby sleep felt like a dream come true after a whole week apart from him. She understood now that she was holding a miracle. She memorized every contour of his face and body, from the striped shirt he wore under his overalls to the curly mussed shock of brown hair on his head, to the cherubic curve of his cheeks. He had one hand curled into her dress as if it were his favorite blanket. He refused to let go of his mother even in sleep. She believed that on some level he knew that she would soon be gone again and didn't want to miss even the unconscious moments he could spend with her. Rowena was more than happy to oblige him.

These moments were especially precious to her. To her son, she wasn't a woman with an eating disorder. She wasn't a bulimia patient. She wasn't even always seen as a witch. She was just a mother. And when her baby looked at her, eyes full of infinite wonder, she saw her purpose.

Often times, the voice of Mia would whisper doubts into her ear. _You're fat!_ She'd say. _If you're going to stuff yourself like a pig, you better have a way to get all of that fat out of you!_ Even more than that, she would always say things like, _You're life means nothing. You have nobody. Who would ever want a fatty like you?_

Sometimes Mia was so loud that she couldn't hear herself think. But when those thoughts started coming in, she could sit up in her chair and point to her son. Her life meant everything to him. He loved her. He wanted and needed her. He thought she had value, and that had to mean something. That was the only time she ever had the courage or the strength to disagree with Mia. It was the only time Mia was wrong.

Now, She felt Fergus stir in her lap and started smiling. His chocolate brown eyes opened up to stare at her as he wiggled awake. She smiled.

"Good morning my wee sausage." She crooned, scooping him up. She felt him nuzzle her happily in a sort of greeting. She kissed him all over, from his forehead, to his button nose, to his chubby cherub cheeks. Then his arms, his stomach, his legs, both scraped knees, and finally his toes. He squealed delightedly with each new kiss as if it were the best thing to ever happen to him. When she stopped, he was grinning happily.

"How's my wee boy today?" She crooned. He giggled and it made her grin. "How about you and I have a bit of fun, hmmm?" She said, bouncing him gently. She looked over at the book she'd left on the table last night and pointed to it with her index finger. "Et volant sursum."

The book, placed spine up on the table in front of her, lifted up in the air a few inches before it began flapping it's covers in an attempt to fly. It zoomed overhead just out of Fergus' reach. He stared at it in awe and reached up to it, laughing loudly. The sound was so delicious it made Rowena join in and enchant a few more books just to see the wonder on his face. She couldn't help the grin that crossed her face as she listened to his squeals of delight. She beamed at her son, happy that he was having so much fun. When he wiggled and squirmed happily in her grip it made her smile widen. This was by far the most rewarding feeling she had ever experienced.

She wondered how she could have missed this the first time around. How had she not felt his joy? How could she have not felt this sense of purpose? She tried thinking back to that time in her life, but it was like trying to see through murky water. That time in her life had long since passed. Trying to remember that way of thinking was like trying to drive a car by pedaling a bike. It made absolutely no sense to her now. The clarity and enlightenment that she had felt since repairing her relationship with her son had made that way of thinking obsolete. She knew that she would never go back to the way things were before. She couldn't, and never would. Not with the way things had turned out.

She had to stifle a laugh and quickly disenchant the books when the aides came out from their office. Fergus was still laughing though, a beautiful, musical sound, and because he was, she was too. She leaned down and pressed a kiss to his forehead. He was the thing that mattered most to her in the entire world. He was joy incarnate, and hope eternal. He was the thing she looked for in the darkest nights of her life. He was the reason she was able to carry on in here when all she desperately wanted was to give up. He was her reason to keep fighting.

And for him, she would win.


	26. Chapter 25

When the rest of the residents trickled in from therapy, it was to Rowena bouncing a giggling Fergus on her knee. As soon as most of the female patients caught sight of him they rushed over to fawn over him. Their comments all blended together to sound the same.

Oh, how old is he? What's his name? He looks like my brother/cousin/nephew/son when he was that age.

The men in the room, wether out of necessity or out of ignorance, didn't comment. They just passed him by.

After the initial wave of fuss over him, the other patients settled into their chairs for lunch. She spent her time eating her own lunch painstakingly slowly, and feeding her son bites of applesauce in between. When she focused on him, she could almost drown out the voice of Mia ordering her to get that disgusting food out of her.

When lunch was over, everyone was asked to gather in the auditorium. Rowena asked if her son was welcome, and they said yes, as long as he behaved himself.

One of the therapists, Dr. Gellar, was standing at the podium.

"How many of you think that your eating disorder is your friend?" She asked. Most of the girls felt their hands creep up. "How many of you think that it's the only thing keeping you alive?"

Hands stayed up.

"How many of you can hear their voice in your head?"

Hands stayed up and jumped up and down.

Dr. Gellar grabbed some papers from the podium. "I have letters here from your eating disorders. I want you to read them carefully and tell me what you think. Alright?" Heads nodded.

She passed out the papers, and Rowena skipped the "letter from Ana" to read the one from Mia printed on the back of the page.

 _Dear Partner,_

 _How are you? I thought I'd take a few minutes to introduce myself. I'm known by some as bulimia nervosa, but seeing how we'll become so close, you can just call me 's what my best friends call me. My loyal friends. Over time, you will become my loyal friend too. Sometimes you might feel more of a servant, but then you will think of all I do for you and remember that I am your only true friend._

 _You know how everyone around you, all those girls, seem like they have it so easy, I hate that! And I hate for you to feel less, which is why from now on, I will provide you with encouragement, and inspiration to achieve what you thought you never could. Prove all the nasty comments wrong. Also, I cannot spend my life with someone not worthy...so you will have to prove yourself to me._

 _I'll try to hang out with you as much as possible, but nobody will know. Only you will know when I'm around. You will know when you eat something, you will know when you see that chocolate cake on the counter, because I will in the back of your mind telling you things. Sometimes I will tell you not to eat it, and you will listen. Other times, you will disobey me and devour the entire cake. Then I will really make you feel guilty. You should have followed my orders! Now go and throw that cake up you FAT COW! How could you do that to yourself?_

 _You will take my comments to heart, and go into the bathroom, turn on the faucet, and force yourself to vomit. You will spend hours vomiting at times. Your face will be red, snot will pour, your eyes will be bloodshot, you jaw will hurt of swollen glands...serves you right! If you want to be my friend and get the full effect of what I can give you, you must follow my orders. You will soon learn that I am in control. Even when you don't do as I say, you can still hear me, screaming at you, telling you to work harder, telling you to take diet pills, telling you how fat you are, telling you what those people across the room are really whispering about._

 _I am sure after a while of this, you will grow to hate me, but you will love me even more. You will love me so much you won't tell anyone about me. If you do, I risk being destroyed, and you don't want that do you? You will have invested so much of your time in me, that you will no longer have anyone else. You have no choice, me or complete solitude. If I'm gone, fat and cellulite will take my place. Which would you rather have? So you must not tell anyone about me. Even if you did, some people would likely not believe you and worse, think you are out for the attention. So hold your head high and look confident. With my help, you can look just as great as your favorite models and actresses. You can look better. I have to go now, but think of me often. Think of me all the time! I am the only one who TRULY wants you to feel loved. Remember that._

 _Sincerely,_

 _Mia_

By the end of the letter, Rowena was shaking. The only thought that was in her mind was that IT WAS A LIE. Her son wanted her to feel loved. He cared about her happiness.

"Rowena?" A voice called. She looked up to see Dr. Gellar staring at her. "Are you alright?"

She didn't realize until that moment that she was crying.

"It's a lie." She said, tears oozing down her cheeks. "She doesn't love me. She hates me. People who love you don't tell you that you're fat. They don't make you lie to everyone you care about. They don't make you afraid to love people. Mia's been lying to me the whole time, and I hate her."

The words were out, a cathartic release. She cried and cradled her son to her chest.

She would never, ever trust Mia again


	27. Chapter 26

**Author's Note: A late update is better than no update! The song used in this chapter is an ORIGINAL and may** **NOT** **be used without my EXPRESS WRITTEN CONSENT. Enjoy!**

Rowena felt herself overcome with emotions as the aftershocks of her realization tore through her. This coping skill, this mechanism that had helped her through the most difficult and trying years of her life, was killing her. All of the time this eating disorder had been with her, it had seemed like her friend. There was nothing Mia couldn't cure. A sick toddler? No problem. Angus calling her names and having his way with her? Cake. There wasn't a thing wrong with her that Mia couldn't make go away. She'd always been grateful to Mia, been willing to follow whatever she ordered to make her stay.

She had slowly felt her bond building with Mia. She hadn't realized that the bonds forming between them were a ball and chain, and that Mia had slowly been leading her into deeper waters where she would surely drown. Now, looking back, she didn't know how she hadn't realized it. She had been under Mia's spell. That was the thing. She had been blinded, searching for something- anything to numb her pain. She had stuffed her feelings and emotions down her throat and released them through purging. It had given her the release she needed. She thought it would be a one time thing, but somehow it had snuck under her skin when she wasn't looking and stuck there.

She thought about all the time she had wasted on her, how many hours she had spent with her head in various toilet bowls, dry heaving, eyes red and socketed, throat burning, and heart pounding out of her chest. How many times had she lied to people who heard too much that she was recovering from food poisoning, or that she was pregnant with morning sickness, or had said that the plumbing in a particular establishment was faulty so that the sound of the toilet flushing could cover up her choking. How much of her life was wasted over that? How many potential relationships with friends, family, had been rejected because she needed to keep people at a distance to keep her secret safe?

The most important one was now sitting in her lap.

Mia demanded all of her time, attention, money. She could have spent it with the one person who truly mattered to her. She should have. But she had changed it all now, and that's what mattered. She clutched Fergus closer to her, smiling as he babbled cheerily in her lap. His chubby hand reached up to pat her cheek, as if comforting her, telling her that it was all going to be okay. She cuddled him closer to her chest, and felt her sadness and guilt wash away bit by bit. He would make it all go away. Her son would carry her through these dark times of recovery. He would be her starlight in the darkness. There would be joy in her life now that he was there, and through her tears, she smiled.

He was her hope.

She stayed for the rest of the lecture before she took her son back to the community room. Then, he began squirming in his mother's arms. Rowena obligingly put him down and watched him toddle over to the diaper bag Sam had packed as per her request. He pulled one out of the bag, pacifier now in his mouth, then raced back over to her.

"'Amma! 'ook!" He demanded from behind the

Rowena felt a gentle smile light her face. She suddenly felt light as a feather. Her time with Mia and away from her baby had stripped her of her joy. Now, she felt truly alive for the first time in weeks. She sat down in the chair and pulled Fergus into her lap.

"What did you bring me, darling?"

He held it up for her to see, and she smiled as she read the title. "You Will Always Be My Son by Kelli Nielsen" She shouldn't have been surprised. It was his favorite. Crowley snuggled into his mother, and she kissed his temple soothingly as she cracked open the book and began to read.

"You will always be my son…"

The story wove on, and she felt her son relax into her embrace. His rhythmic sucking on the pacifier slowed, and she could tell he was tired but fighting sleep. So, when the book was done, she softly crooned a song to him.

"Somewhere in the darkness

Where I was buried deep

The lord reached his hand out

And sent you to rescue me

I didn't know that I was lost

Until I found you, ooh,

And now I get to meet this

Brand new side of you

So don't you worry baby boy,

Momma's here to hold you now

You're the most precious thing in my world,

And I'll be here for you somehow

The distance doesn't matter

No miles can keep us apart

Because I will always carry you

Deep inside my heart

So sing along with this lullaby

Hold it against you close

And we will never say goodbye

No matter where you go

So don't you worry baby boy,

Momma's here to hold you now

You're the most precious thing in my world,

And I'll be here for you somehow

The distance doesn't matter

No miles can keep us apart

Because I will always carry you

Deep inside my heart

I'll lift you up when you are down

I can promise you that

I'll Keep you high when you're off the ground

And I'll always have your back

I'll be your friend, your confidant, whatever else you need

I'll love you more than anything

Because you have set me free

You let me be who I really am

And so I want to thank you for this chance

You were everything I ever dreamed

Even as crazy as it seems

And so in gratitude I will sing

Don't you worry baby boy,

Momma's here to hold you now

You're the most precious thing in my world,

And I'll be here for you somehow

The distance doesn't matter

No miles can keep us apart

Because I will always carry you

Deep inside my heart…"

When she looked back in her lap, her baby was asleep.


	28. Chapter 27

Rowena felt at peace as her son snoozed in her lap. She had never appreciated his amazing capacity for sleep as an actual infant. She really should have when she had the chance. These moments of closeness with her child were incredible and heartening. With him in her lap she could do anything. She was invincible with him there. It would be all the more heartbreaking to say goodbye to him later in the evening. She cuddled him, and he nuzzled into her further. She surprised herself by how tender she could be. She still wasn't used to this fragile glass world of her son trusting her to take care of him. It still seemed too much like a dream.

When he began to stir, she began making preparations to give him a bottle to drink. The day was beginning to wane, and she knew her time with him was limited. She had to make the most of it. With an aide tailing her, she got permission to take her boy out to the gazebo. She set him down nearby in the grass and watched him run around, squealing happily as he rolled around in the grass. She watched him for just a few minutes before she couldn't resist any longer. She got up, suddenly full of laughter and joy, and she chased her boy around the gazebo. She picked him up and twirled him around in her arms. She blew raspberries on his stomach and heard the magic sound of his giggling. She felt herself loosen from the self possessed woman she presented to the world to the happy, devoted mother hidden underneath. For one moment of absolute pure bliss, she did not care what other people thought of her. For a single instant, she was free.

Unbeknownst to her, Sam Winchester stood watching the two of them interact. He had returned a short while ago to bring Crowley back home to hell. When he had gone inside to the community room and hadn't found her, he was about to go check the dormitory, when he heard a child's squealing laughter. He followed the sound to see Rowena holding Crowley high into the air, twirling him around above her head, and looking happier than he'd ever seen her. He heard Crowley laugh with a child's uninhibited abandon. It was the first time that he had ever thought of him as human. Even when he and his brother were trying to make him human, he had still seen him as a demon. Just as he had only seen Rowena as a witch, not as a mother. Even when he had witnessed the small interaction, what he had seen had been so odd and unexpected that he didn't think he had a chance to really let what he was seeing sink in. Now, everything was finally coming together. It had finally clicked that Rowena and Crowley had truly mended their fences and had let any bad blood between them be expunged.

They were, for once, mother and son. Nothing more.

He felt a sense of guilt overcome him as he realized that he would have to end the union. He let the moment between them linger a few moments longer before he came forward and cleared his throat.

Rowena was still smiling when she turned to see what that noise was. It took her a moment to register that it was Sam Winchester standing in front of her in the sunset, but when she did, her smile faltered, then dropped completely. She slowly brought Fergus down from his position high in the air and moved to cradle him to her chest. Crowley, sensing his mother's sudden change in mood, suddenly quieted down and grew clingy, clutching the fabric of her dress as he started sucking his thumb.

"It's time." Said Sam.

"Oh…" The amount of regret in her voice surprised him. "Yes… Right."

"I'll be waiting by the car." He said.

Rowena made her way back to the community room as painstakingly slowly as she could manage to get his diaper bag. By then Fergus had filled the quiet with babbling, although unsure of what was happening, it wasn't cheerful. It was more to fill the void. Maybe if he talked more it would make Mummy happy again.

She took her time taking him back outside. She made sure she got out his pacifier and his beloved blanket before she made her way out. Sam Winchester was leaning on the Impala's hood casually as to not attract attention. When he saw them coming, he got in the driver's seat and started the car so that it would be cool inside for Crowley, and to give mother and son a moment to say goodbye. Rowena paused just outside the parking lot, suddenly overwhelmed by the thought of saying goodbye to her baby. She kissed his head, then sniffed it once, twice, three times. The scent of him calmed her.

"Mummy loves you so much, Fergus. More than you could ever imagine. You gave me hope. And I'm going to miss you so much. Come back and see me soon, Dearie. I love you my wee sausage. More than anyone or anything else."

As if in reply, The babbling grew into words. One word. Over and over and over again.

"Mama! Mama! Mama! Mama!"

The word served to further break her already broken heart. She carried him to the car, trying her damnedest not to cry. She opened up the car door where the car seat had already been installed. With more than a little regret, she strapped her babbling son into the seat. She took one long, loving last look at him, then tenderly kissed his forehead.

"Mummy loves you."

When she pulled away, his expression broke, and he started to cry, reaching for her. The hardest thing she ever did was shut the car door. With a heavy heart, she watched them drive away with fresh tears streaming down her cheeks.


	29. Chapter 28

Rowena stood frozen in her steps long after the Impala had driven down the dirt path in a cloud of dust. She felt her hand go to her chest the way she would after having palpitations. She could feel her disappointment and sadness becoming a literal weight inside of her chest. She wasn't quite sure what to do now. With her baby gone, life often felt like an over washed sweater, and no amount of adjustment could make it fit her the way it used to. It was like life flickering between black and white and full color. Now everything had been leached gray again.

An aide came out of the community building and tried to retrieve her.

"Rowena? It's time for HS Snack." She said. Rowena nodded absently, not really hearing any of her words. She followed the aide back into the room, feeling like a zombie in her own body. Her mind wasn't there, it was speeding along the Arizona highways with her child and Sam Winchester in the Impala. She went up to the cart and had her snack, and sat at the table, eating robotically. She heard conversations going on around her, but she wasn't interested in them.

The aides noticed her disinterest, and made sure to report it to her therapist and psychiatrist. The difference between her now and earlier was obvious. She was animated, lively, witty, and charming when her son was around. Now, she was drained and a walking corpse. They worried her dependence on her child was unhealthy, and they were sure to report it to her therapist and psychiatrist. However, knowing what they knew of her, it didn't seem all that unhealthy. It seemed that she was desperate to make the connection with her child before time ran her out. So the change in her was hardly surprising, all things considered.

The following week when her treatment team met on Tuesday morning, they discussed what had happened during her visit with her son and how it had effected her recovery.

After the initial despair of saying goodbye to her child had passed, a rebound effect had occurred. Suddenly, she was making the most out of every lecture, every therapy session, and every psychiatric appointment. She told everything- from her relationship with her abusive ex boyfriend and her initial hatred of her child, which had cracked away after she had left her ex (at least that's the lie she told to cover up her three hundred year absence from his life), and how her eating disorder had developed and taken root inside of her. For once in her life, she didn't hold back. She knew the more she told, the more she got rid of, and the more she tried, the sooner she could go home and be with her son.

Every doctor and professional on her treatment team agreed that her son's visit had spurred her toward further recovery, and that more visits between them would be a good thing for Rowena. So they increased the allocation of her visits to once a week. From there, a routine developed.

Every Friday, Sam would make the trip up to Wickenburg with Crowley in the backseat. While most of the time he let mother and son be, occasionally they would sit in the gazebo while Crowley played nearby and discuss things- the new steering wheel cover Dean had gotten for the Impala, how Cas had managed to save heaven, or the latest hunt they'd been on. Sometimes though, they would talk about the deeper things- How Rowena wondered if she would ever leave the clinic, the uncertainty of keeping Dean from growing suspicious over his continuous borrowing of the car, or how to keep the secret from getting out through the supernatural community.

Sam had been a man of his word. He had not told a soul about Rowena's eating disorder- not even his brother. He was sure that Dean was growing suspicious about the growing number of miles on the impala, but kept finding ways to excuse it. However, he was keenly aware that some secrets could not remain secrets forever. Sooner or later, his brother was bound to find out what he was up to. When that happened, he wasn't sure what he would say or do.

It was a Saturday morning in Lebanon, Kansas. Dean had risen particularly early after a good night's sleep. He had decided to take the time to give his Baby a tune up as a relaxing Saturday activity. There were no hunts to worry about, and Sam was still sleeping. He popped the hood and began his work, but it wasn't until he was about to go under her to do an oil change that he saw it.

There was a black car seat in the back of his Baby. What?

Sam had left it in there the evening before, sure that he would wake before Dean and hide it the way he had for several weeks. Now, he opened the door and stared at it. Why the hell was this in there? He pulled it out of the car and set it down when a white piece of paper fell out. He put down the seat and picked it up. A child's scribbles in blue and orange crayon were on the paper. At the head of the stationary were the words "Taylor Centers For Eating Disorders". Suspicious, Dean looked it up online. He got an address in Wickenburg, Arizona. He did some math. It completely explained the miles on the car. But who was Sam seeing there?

Dean had to find out. He jotted a note to his brother that he'd be back in a day, and then hit the road. When he arrived, it was late in the day in Arizona.

Rowena had happened to be eating by the window when she saw the impala pull up. Her heart did a little leap in her chest. Her baby was here! She ran into the parking lot, calling,

"Fergus! Fergus! Come to Mummy, darling!" When suddenly, she stopped.

Stepping out of the Impala was Dean Winchester.


	30. Chapter 29

Rowena and Dean stared at each other in a moment that seemed to be suspended in time. Dean was recovering from the shock while Rowena was trying to figure out what to do as terror pulsed through her veins. When someone finally did speak, it was Rowena.

"What are you doing here?" She asked. The words were automatic, numbed with shock.

"Me? What are you doing here?" He asked. Rowena turned a shade of puce.

"I think you know very well why I'm here. If you made it this far, I think you can figure it out." The words were eerily calm.

"So? You have an eating disorder?" Dean asked. Rowena gave him the barest nod, but he brushed it off. "Big deal."

"Yes it is." She said sharply. "It is a big deal. I should know. I've been dealing with it for over three hundred years, and it has almost killed me. And you have your brother to thank for me being here. That bampot blackmailed me into coming. He'll never let me live this down.

"Good." Said Dean. "Because I won't either."

Rowena rolled her eyes. "So now what? Are you going to Lorde this over me for the rest of my life too?"

"No." He said, drawing out the word slowly. "I won't, but only if you tell me exactly what I want to know. Then, once I'm satisfied, we'll never have to speak of this again."

Rowena looked at him, eyes mistrustful. "So I tell you what you want and we never bring it up. Is that right?"

"Yes. Exactly."

"And I have your word that you will hold yourself to that promise."

"Absolutely." He said, offering her his hand. She took a long look at it, then took in a deep breath, and shook his hand.

"Come on. Let's go find someplace quiet to sit down." She said. He nodded and followed her.

They ended up sitting in the non-smoking gazebo, staring out as the sunset.

"So, want to tell me why you're here?" Asked Dean.

"You already know why." She replied.

"I meant specifically." Dean said.

Rowena sighed. "I have bulimia."

"Meaning?"

"I binge eat a lot of food and then make myself throw it up."

Dean gave her a vaguely disgusted look. "Why would you want to waste perfectly good food?"

Rowena sighed. "You wouldn't understand."

"Try me."

She was quiet for a long moment. "Imagine yourself going into an ocean. Your walking in, deeper and deeper into the water. Until suddenly you're drowning and you don't even realize it until you realize that you're out of air. You try and get help, and you're screaming and screaming but no one can hear you. That's what it feels like to have an eating disorder. And when you're a bulimic… It's like being a volcano about to erupt. You stuff down whatever feelings you don't want to talk about with food, and then you release them when you purge. It's not glamorous, but it's real. It's what happens to me every day."

"How long have you-?"

"Been purging?" She cut him to the quick, and he nodded. "Three hundred years."

Dean's eyes widened, and then, he made a connection that he hadn't before.

"Wait, is that why you fainted on that hunt a few weeks ago and why you were in the hospital?" He asked. She nodded.

"Yes."

"Why don't you just stop purging?"

"Why don't you just stop drinking?" She fired back. He raised his hands up in a gesture of surrender.

"Alright, alright. I get it. Touché." He said. "That solves one mystery at least." He said. "But what about Crowley?"

"What about him?"

"You were calling for him when I pulled up."

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Your brother usually brings him here to visit me."

"Sam?" He asked, surprised, She nodded.

"But why would he have to bring him? Why couldn't he just come on his own?"

Rowena closed her eyes. She had known this moment was coming as inevitably as the sun rose in the sky in the morning. Dean stared at her, demanding an answer with his eyes. So she took a deep breath, and began to explain things, starting with their reconciliation in the hospital, through their new relationship as mother and son, and finally through his visits with her at the clinic. To his credit, Dean kept a stoic face, nodding when appropriate and keeping silent until the end of the tale.

He had had trouble believing several parts of her story (Crowley? A baby? That was ridiculous!) But how else could the car seat or drawing in the back of the Impala be explained? Nothing else fit. It took him a very long time to let her words sink in, but when they did, he was quiet for a long time. Then, finally, he turned to her.

"You really miss him, don't you?"

She nodded. "More than anything in the world. If I could have a chance to do it all over again, I would take it in a heartbeat."

"And the only reason you see him now is-"

"Because of Sam. Yes, that's right."

"How did he get wrapped up in all of this?"

So she took the time to explain all of what had gone on between them and how he had figured out she needed help. Dean sort of shook his head at some parts. That was Sam. A few moments of quiet lingered between them.

"So, what are you going to do now?" Dean asked.

Rowena felt the breeze lift her hair up before setting it back down on her shoulders. In this moment, the world seemed open and anything seemed possible.

"I'm going to beat this eating disorder, and then I'm going to come home and take care of my son."

Dean nodded. He moved to get up, but Rowena put her hand on his.

"Keep bringing him to see me. Please." She begged. Dean nodded.

"I will."

Now satisfied, he drove back home to the bunker.


	31. Chapter 30

With Dean now privy to the secrets that Rowena had worked so hard to hide, The pressure on all involved in her treatment eased considerably. Sam, who had panicked when he found the Impala gone and the car seat in the garage, now didn't have to keep secrets from his brother. He did, however, have to answer to Dean about having gone behind his back, taken HIS car, and having kept said secret for as long as he had. Sam had explained himself well, arguing that he could not tell his brother what was going on because his own promise to Rowena and, more so, himself, was more important. Still, he spooned humble pie down his throat, apologized to his brother for hurting him, and swore to never do such a thing again.

Dean, now that he was included in things, began to visit when Fridays came around. Although it was perpetually awkward to have Crowley as a baby in the backseat of his car, he shuttled him there and back without complaint because he knew that someday he could use this "selfless" gesture to get Rowena to do him a favor or two- and to have one of the most powerful witches in the world in your back pocket was damn handy.

The first time he made the trek, though, was hands down the most uncomfortable thing he had ever done in his life.

There was cold comfort in the idea that Crowley had already been transitioned into his infant form when Dean and Sam came to pick him up. Sam, who had grown somewhat used to carrying him, or at least strapping him in, didn't blink. But Dean found his gaze constantly drawn to the pair of milk chocolate brown eyes staring at him from the rear view mirror. The chubby, robust baby babbling constantly in the back seat set him on edge. Of course there was the general weirdness surrounding the infantilized king of hell sitting in the back seat of his baby, but there was a much deeper, more subliminal reason he kept looking in that mirror.

Because Crowley looked almost exactly like Sam had when he was that age.

The resemblance was uncanny, and it set his teeth on edge. He had to continuously remind himself that Sam was sitting right next to him, and wasn't the giggling, happy infant in the backseat. Every "Protect Sam" instinct he had was on high alert, blaring a loud alarm signal. It was driving him out of his mind, and making driving so difficult that, to his utter dismay, he asked his brother to drive the rest of the way. He just _had_ to keep an eye on that baby.

It was hard for him to believe that that squealing ball of joy would grow to become the king of hell. He just seemed so… innocent. Logically, he knew that everyone had to come from an age of innocence before they became hardened criminals or ghosts or demons, but to actually see it made him wonder where humanity had gone wrong.

When they pulled up to the clinic it was just past eleven in the morning. Rowena came out of the doors shortly after, a bright grin on her face. It was the first time Dean had seen her genuinely smile over something good. Sam was out of the car before he was, and when he went around the front he saw Sam set Crowley on the ground. He saw the way Crowley's eyes lit up when he saw his mother and watched him toddle over to her. Rowena, meanwhile, crouched down, her arms outstretched lovingly to her child. And when he finally entered her arms, She held him close and kissed his forehead with all the tenderness that seemed to exist in the world. It struck him for the first time in his life that Rowena and Crowley were a mother and son. Sure, he had known that they were related, and yes, he'd seen some parental qualities in Rowena, but he had never truly seen her as a mother. Not until today. Now, seeing the joy in her eyes, the light in her smile, and the sound of genuine laughter, there was no denying it: Rowena MacLeod loved her son with all she had.

It made him smile, this tiny glimpse of her humanity. It made him remember how much his own mother loved him. Him and Sammy too. For a second- no longer than it took a stream of light to enter the room- his eyes got watery and his throat involuntarily closed up.

He watched Rowena twirl Crowley in the air, then kiss him and cuddle him and tickle him until he was giggling breathlessly. It was like he had never seen her before, and in truth he hadn't. Not this side of her. He watched, amazed at the transformation she had gone through in the short months since her hospitalization. They had made miles of progress together.

Sam cleared his throat, and his brother looked at him. He gestured to the Impala in a move that clearly said that they should go and give them some privacy. Much as he was inclined to, he wanted no- he needed to watch this. For himself. Maybe it was solely for the edification of his heart that he needed to be sure of what he was seeing. He needed his head and his heart to be absolutely sure of what he was seeing, just so he could know that people really were capable of change. So when Sam drove off to go places he wanted to while he was in Arizona, Dean actually didn't mind. After making a vague threat on his brother's life if he scratched the Impala, he stayed and watched as mother and son played, laughed and smiled together.

For one beautiful, shining moment, Dean could say that he was happy that he had not killed a monster that he had once hunted


	32. Chapter 31

Rowena spent all day with her son under the watchful eye of Dean Winchester. At first she had been suspicious and more than a bit mistrustful of him, but once she saw that he was not intending to take her son away, but rather just observe them, she relaxed. She was thrilled just to have the time she did with him, and didn't want to waste it worrying about one man when she could be spending it with her child. Fergus didn't seem to care either way, which was rare because he often grew nervous and clingy when other people were around. She thought it was because the Winchesters were so familiar to him, but she knew subconsciously that that might not be totally true.

When she leaned down to pick up Crowley, the light caught on an object and it drew Dean's eye. He noticed that his mother wasn't wearing her usual necklace. The tiny diamond was replaced with a heart shaped silver necklace. He thought something was inscribed on it.

"Rowena?"

"Yes?"

"What does your necklace say?" He asked curiously . Rowena smiled, and her hand automatically went to touch the necklace. She smiled at her son.

"It's a locket. The front says "always in my heart", and when I open it, the one side has his picture, and the other side says "Forever my baby boy"." She said with a grin.

"Where did you get it?"

"Online."

"They let you go online here?"

"We only get fifteen minutes per week."

"And you spent it doing that? How much did that even cost you?"

"About ninety dollars."

If Dean had been drinking he would have spat it all over Rowena's face. "You spent ninety dollars on a necklace?!"

"What's it to you, squirrel?" She asked.

Dean shook his head. "Never mind."

Rowena shrugged.

She did not know that while she spent time with her child, she was being watched.

Angus McAdams considered himself to be one of the most brilliant souls alive. He was ruthless, cunning, and a man who took his time in getting whatever it was he wanted. He considered revenge to be an art, and he was an incredible artist at it. He considered himself a Picasso of the art, and he made sure to perfect it. It did not matter how long it took him to finish his piece, as long as it turned out the way he wanted it to. From the time he had managed to track down Rowena, he had known that he was going to get his revenge on her for what she had done to him all those years ago. Figuring out where she had lived was just part of the plan. She had gotten lucky that he had been disabled, but unbeknownst to her, he had gotten away, and was planning his vengeance carefully, one step at a time.

The first step of all of this was discovering where she had gone. He had figured that she wouldn't stay after he found her the first time. But he knew that she would take her child with her. That child was the key to tracking her. As soon as he had managed to escape, he tracked that child down again, and observed him closely for weeks, watching his routine. One Friday, when the Impala picked him up, Angus followed them discreetly in his car. How they had not noticed they were being tailed, he would never know. But he was grateful. He pulled up to the Taylor Centers For Eating Disorders, and was confused as to why he was going there when he saw her. Rowena. He could tell it was her by the shade of her hair. That red hair had haunted his dreams and nightmares for years. It was her, He was sure. Now that he had found her, though, the question remained: What would he do with her?

A dozen ideas flashed through his mind: chaining her to a wall and tormenting her, beating her with his fists, raping her in the middle of the night when he knew she was alone. All were good ideas. All of them suited her, and she was deserving of all of it. He would get his revenge if it killed him. The bitch had ducked him for centuries. It was about damn time that she paid her dues.

But..

As great as all of those ideas were, there was one that trumped them all- one that would inflict the maximum pain on her without him even having to touch her. She would never be able to forgive herself for this.

He would kidnap her son. And there would be no doubt in her mind who would be responsible. She would know it was him, but she would never be able to find that baby again. It would be the ultimate torment. It would be the ultimate torment for any parent. And then, just when she couldn't think it would be worse, he would find a way to get her pictures of her son without it being traceable. He would raise that child as his own, and he would train that baby to hate her with everything he had. Then, finally, when he was grown, he would send that child out in the world of find his mother, and tell her to her face that he hated her, and that he would never love her. It would be the most awful torment he could give her. Then, when she couldn't bear to live any longer, he would show up with her child, now his, and they would torment her together, in the name of father/son bonding. And then, he would never let her go. He would be her prisoner forever.

He grinned, and decided to head on back home. He would have to use his now limited free time to prepare a nursery for his new son.

Angus smirked to himself and laughed evilly. Enjoy yourself, Rowena. While you still can…


	33. Chapter 32

The days ran into one another like sand in an hourglass. For Rowena, They slowly became monotonous, with no foreseeable end in sight. She would have liked to say later that she remembered what went on during that time, but to be honest everything seemed the same. And for a while, it was. She continued to work on herself, to try and uncover the roots of her eating disorder, and to miss her child when he wasn't there. Before she knew it, She had been in treatment for two and a half months. She had made considerable progress with herself. She now understood why she did what she did. What she still had trouble with was figuring out how to stop throwing up.

It wasn't so much that she didn't think she could stop. That wasn't it at all. It was that she didn't; know how to replace the habit with something better. What that something better was, she still didn't know. That was her conundrum. She felt like she was torn between two worlds. It wasn't that she didn't want to get better, it was that being sick was all she knew. She hadn't known a time where she didn't have throwing up as her security blanket. It had always been there, hovering behind everything going on in her life, there to comfort her and soothe her. No coping skill she had found since had given her the same kind of gratification. It scared her, this knowledge that nothing had calmed her in this way. The only thing that had come even remotely close was having her son close by, But she didn't want to put that kind of pressure on him. Despite wanting him to be with her twenty four seven, he still had a life outside of her.

Now, She sat near the window in her room, a pit in her stomach as she realized what she would have to do. She saw now that she would have to give it up, and it made her feel wretched. Though she now hated Mia, and didn't trust a word she said, she was afraid to let her go. Who would she be without her? The only thing she knew she could be without Mia was a witch and a mother. As a mother, she could do well. She had done exceedingly well. She had expunged her guilt over leaving her child, and had made it up to him in full. That had been done with for some time. But as for being a witch, she worried that somehow going back to her old ways would somehow bring up her connection with Mia. Therefore, she had a choice to make.

Would she give up her career to be the best, healthiest mother she could be? Could she?

This was the dilemma playing at her conscience. How could she give it all up? How could she cut all ties with her past and focus on her future? What would be left of her then?

She leaned her head against the window and let her breath fog up the glass. What was she going to do with herself once she was out of there? Endless possibilities filtered through her mind. She would celebrate with her son. That much was certain. But then what would happen after? Could she really spend day after day with no career, taking care of her son and somehow managing to facilitate her own recovery at the same time? She couldn't imagine doing it all. Some part of her wanted to be that woman. A mother who was completely satisfied with her life, but she wondered if she could really be happy with just that.

She decided to let the matter go for now and just take everything one day at a time.

It was about two weeks later when she got the news. Her treatment team had all discussed it, and they agreed that she was ready to go home. She didn't know how to feel about it. On the one hand, she was excited to be leaving and being able to go and see her child. It was an incredible feeling. But on the other, she was frightened. This world in treatment was ordered and familiar. It was a rarified snow globe, one that no monsters, no abusers, no disorders could penetrate. And now she was leaving. It was frightening.

Still, her therapist and psychiatrist thought that she was ready. That had to mean something. They thought she had made enough progress to leave. That in itself meant a lot to her. So, she began to prepare herself mentally for leaving. She told Dean and Sam when they came up the next Friday. They all agreed to have a sort of mini celebration for her. When Crowley found out, he was joyful. He spent his time in hell preparing his mother's home. He couldn't wait to welcome her home.

When the day finally came, she said goodbye to the few friends she had made and walked out the doors, saying goodbye to her therapist and psychiatrist, and thanked them for their help. Then, finally, it was time. Dean and Sam were waiting by the Impala, but Fergus had run toward her. She scooped him into her waiting arms, and smothered him with kisses and cuddles. He squealed happily, and she cradled him happily. Her son was in her arms again, and no one would take him away.

"Congratulations, Ms. MacLeod." Said a voice. She smiled, and thanked them. She carried her son out to the parking lot, and came to Sam. She looked at him for a long time, surrounded by word ghosts. There were so many things she could have said. But there were two words that said it all.

"Thank you." She said, gratefully.

Sam smiled at her for once. "You're welcome." He said.

With that, she climbed into the Impala, with her son giggling in her lap, and they went back to hell.


	34. Chapter 33

Rowena kissed, cuddled, and praised her son all the way to hell. When they reached the house, Rowena used her spell to transfigure him into his adult body, which she hadn't seen since the day she left for the hospital. It felt good to be able to hug him. She looped his arm through his and thanked the Winchester brothers for all they had done for the both of them before Crowley took his mother down to her apartment in hell.

They appeared just inside the doorway. She looked around at the tiny living room, and felt the strangest sensation. It was a sort of out of body sensation. One that she couldn't quite explain. It was as if she was watching things from overhead instead of through her own eyes. Going back here felt so odd. It wasn't the place where it had all began, but it was close enough to unnerve her. Was she really ready to be here? She tried to push the thought out of her head. She would be fine. She had done all of the work to get to this point. She still wasn't completely done with treatment. She had arranged to go to outpatient treatment five times per week to continue on the path to recovery. Everything seemed that it would be alright, but she felt her grasp on health was so tenuous and fragile, that she felt it could shatter in an instant. She calmed herself down and turned her attention to her son.

Crowley had gone inside easily. While his mother was gone he had come here often. He had wandered the halls, going from room to room to room. The only room that he couldn't bring himself to go into was the nursery. Oh, he had tried to go in many times while his mother was gone. A few times he had even put his hand on the doorknob. But in the end, he couldn't go in. Not while she was away. The nursery was their place. The one place where they could let their guard down and be who they were on the inside. He felt that if he should go in there, it would be a complete disregard of what they had built together.

Now though, his mother was home. Now when he touched the doorknob, he wasn't afraid to turn it. Rowena, who had predicted exactly what her son would do, followed him, and was overjoyed to see the room again. She grinned happily and watched her son as he entered the room.

He hadn't been in the nursery for a few weeks. But now that he was in here it felt like it had been just yesterday. The surroundings of the nursery immediately worked their magic, and instantly he was in his little space, happy and serene. He begrudgingly allowed his mother to Dress him in a shirt and diaper before he saw his favorite blanket on the floor and immediately got down and crawled over to it. His blanket was one of his favorite things when he was little. It was tattered and old and falling apart in some places, but it was special. It smelled just like Mummy, because Mummy sprayed it with her favorite perfume. She promised him that it would help keep all the monsters away if she wasn't there for some reason. Of course, that rarely ever happened. She hated to leave her baby boy alone even for the briefest moment. Her guilt about having left him the first time around always resurfaced whenever she had to be away from him. Now, however, she was smiling brightly as Fergus held his blanket to his face and pulled a pacifier into his mouth. Rowena leaned down and picked him up (A little magic to make him almost weightless had really come in handy) before pressing her lips to his forehead. She half expected her son to blush, but no. He was too busy smelling his blanket and cuddling a stuffed animal that was left on the floor. She pulled him into her arms and paced the room, enjoying the closeness with her child. This feeling could never be replicated. When she outran the energy in her legs, she collapsed into the rocking chair with Fergus in her arms, thrilled. He meant everything to her. She stroked his brown hair with one hand and kept him closer to her still with the other. Without her knowledge or consent, she began to cry quietly, out of joy and relief in equal parts. Finally, she was home with her baby boy.

"Oh Fergus, I love you. I missed you so much." She whispered as happy tears streamed down her cheeks. She couldn't stop kissing him or smiling or crying. She had missed this feeling more than anything in the world. Crowley finally looked up when he felt a wetness on his hand. He looked to see a black drop of water on it. Huh? That wasn't normal. So he looked up and saw that his mother was crying. His eyes welled up with his own tears as a natural, subconscious reaction to his mother's crying.

"Mummy?" It was a frightened little squeak of a word. The sound of it jolted Rowena back to reality, instead of the heady world of utter happiness she was living in. She quickly saw that he was picking up on her emotuons, but was misinterpreting them. She quickly went to calm him down.

"Oh sweetheart, it's alright. Everything's alright now. Don't cry, darling. Mummy isn't sad."

Crowley looked up at her confused, tears hanging just above his eyelashes. Mummy wasn't sad? Then why was she crying? He didn't understand.

"Not sad?" He asked, curious. She nodded.

"No baby, I'm not sad. I'm happy." She said, stroking his cheek affectionately. "I'm happy because we're together again. And I promise I am never letting you go again."

Happy, Crowley nuzzled further into his mother. This was exactly where he wanted to be.


	35. Chapter 34

Angus McAdams watched Rowena and her son settle into a routine. He watched them, observed their behaviors down to the most minute detail. He considered himself lucky that they lived such an isolated existence. It would make it much easier to take them that way. He meticulously wrote what they did every hour on the hour. He had made sure to conceal himself from sight, but he was always there. Watching. Waiting. Preparing for what he was sure would be the ultimate strike against the both of them. Every day that passed by provided ample opportunities to learn and grow just a little stronger than he was the day before.

It was a quiet morning, and Rowena MacLeod had just woken up from a good night's sleep. She looked at the alarm by her bed and saw that it was seven in the morning. It was Saturday, thankfully a weekend. She decided to let her son sleep in longer. She shuffled to the bathroom and began preparing for the day ahead. She showered, dressed, and did her hair and makeup. Then, she went into the kitchen to make herself breakfast. Today's menu was a strawberry granola parfait with vanilla greek yogurt, orange juice, some tea, and a bowl of oatmeal. By the time she was done, it was around nine o'clock. She decided now was as good a time as any to wake her son and begin her day.

Rowena took a moment to fully appreciate the nursery that she had helped design. If there was one thing she had learned in treatment, it was to appreciate her hard work making this place. Her eyes locked on the crib, and on the sleeping form of her son, who was clothed in light blue footed pajamas and was cuddling with his favorite teddy bear and blanket. She couldn't help the large grin that stretched across her face. She lowered the side bar of the crib and gently shook her son's shoulder. Crowley groaned and opened his sleepy eyes. There was Mummy, standing over him and smiling

"Okay buddy, it's time to get up."

"No..." He murmured from behind his pacifier, turning over to his side and shutting his eyes.

"Yes. It's a beautiful day and you can't spend it in bed." He saw the bear lying on the other side of her son and picked him up. "Look at Mr. Bear, he's all awake." Crowley's hands went looking for his beloved plushie.

"No, Mr. Bear's sweeping with me." He opened his eyes to see his plushie above him, and reached up for him with one hand, using the other to rub his eyes.

"Come on, baby. You need to get up and start your day." She said. She picked up her son and started changing him. Then, while her son battled his way to wakefulness, She made him a bottle. Then, when it was ready, she started to feed her son.

As Rowena rocked back and forth, she tried to enjoy her time with her baby, but something kept nagging at her thoughts, a voice whispering unease into her mind. Angus had been taken care of now, and rightfully punished for his actions. That part was over and done with, and was in and of itself a huge weight off of her shoulders. But there was another part of him that was still lingering behind- his time in the nursery had somehow made a mark there. It was like a stain that had been scrubbed and scrubbed, and was almost invisible, but no matter how much she tried to clean it, a faint outline remained. In the time she had been home from treatment, her son had developed a fear of being left alone in the nursery. Knowing that someone had been able to penetrate the sacred walls had unnerved him. She hated that even now Angus had managed to ruin a good thing.

Crowley looked up at his mother, who was humming quietly to him. These moments with her were sp precious to him. He could feel his mother's warmth and tenderness, and it made him feel so special and loved. He knew that she really did accept him for who he was, and not for who he should have been. There was no pressure to please her, to be good enough for her, as there had once been. Now, he simply relaxed, knowing that Mummy would take care of everything. He didn't have to worry or care about anything more.

Normally she would have laid him down in the crib immediately and let him sleep some more after his feeding, but today she held onto him a little while longer. He was a reminder to her of what she had fought so hard to protect. That sweet little innocent face told her that she wasn't useless. She was more than just a powerful witch or a pretty face. She was a mother. And every time she looked at her son she was reminded that she had at least done one thing right in her life. She pressed her lips to his forehead in a gentle kiss. She held him just a few more moments before laying him gently in the crib. The warm milk and rocking motion had eased him quickly back into sleep. His fist moved slightly when she set him down, and he cooed quietly. Rowena froze, fearing she may have woken him, but he settled down quickly. Carefully, she crept out of the room and shut the door as softly as she could.

While her son slept just a little longer, Rowena cleaned up the kitchen from the morning's breakfast. She wiped down the counters and cleaned out the microwave. Then, when the kitchen was sparkling, she returned to the nursery. Stationing herself in the rocking chair in the corner, She pulled out one of her favorite books on witchcraft, content to read and watch her child sleep and dream for the rest of the morning.


	36. Chapter 35

That Saturday morning, Angus McAdams was preparing to abduct his prey. He had made all the necessary arrangements to make sure that her son would have no way to escape. Now all he had to do was wait until it was time for his nap to be able to take him. Until then, he was content to watch, knowing that Rowena would be mulling over these moments for years to come, wondering what she could have missed in those final few hours before her son went missing. He smirked and waited as her son snoozed on, quietly enjoying himself. This would be the day that he finally won.

Rowena heard her son begin to stir. She closed her book shut and set it on the floor before she went over to the crib. She let down the side of it and started rubbing circles on his back to help him wake up. She watched his chocolate brown eyes flutter open and he looked at her with such love and trust that it made her heart wretch. The fact that he trusted her with his innermost self was an honor. That fact was never lost on her. It reminded her dimly of an article she had read online, talking about how mothers felt about their children. It's words had resonated with her as soon as she had found it. Now, when things got tough, she remembered those words, and it reminded her of what she was living for, It was for him. She felt the words run through her mind as she stared down at her baby.

To my daughter, and to all the wonderful ABDL children out there, if you're ever wondering what we parents are thinking, here's what's on our minds:

We're thinking about how much trust you've put in us by revealing your truest selves to us. We're thinking that we don't want to fail you. We're thinking about how sweet you look when you cuddle up with your favorite blanket or plushie. We're thinking about the way you laugh, and how it makes us all warm and fuzzy inside. We're thinking about how our lives were so plain before you came along. We're wondering how we ever lived without you.

But most of all, we're thinking about how much we love you. How we'd do anything to protect you and keep you safe. How we'd climb mountains just to see you smile. We're trying to find new ways to show that love to you every day, wether it's by giving you a new pacifier, or reading you an extra story at night. We're trying to be the people you see us as.

Your innocence, your love, and your joy helps us think that maybe the world isn't such a bad place after all. With all the awful stuff going on in the world right now, it's easy to focus on all the negatives. We forget the positive things, and you remind us of them. You show us that there is still good in people, no matter how bad they seem. You teach us something new everyday.

You give us a reason to get up in the morning. When we're at the lowest point in our lives, you give us a reason to hope. You are our joy. You are our peace. You are our children.

No matter what the outside world may think, our love for you is just as real and valid as a regular parent's. Sometimes the people who don't know little you can accidentally put you down, and when it hurts and you come to us, we will always comfort you like you were our own child. Because to us, you are. It doesn't matter if there are legal documents that say you're ours. You will always be our babies (or toddlers, depending on your inner age). We will always love you. We will always accept you for who you are. We will always be proud of you no matter what you do. And we will always try and make ourselves better people so that we feel like we deserve a child as wonderful as you are.

Each of you are our own personal blessing- a real life dream come true. You are always something we wanted, and we wouldn't have things any other way. So thank you- for every smile, every laugh, every tear drop, every hug and kiss. Thank you for opening up to us and for giving us a purpose in life. Thank you for all of the kindness you show us every single day.

And most of all, thank you for being you.

Now, She reached down into the crib and picked up her son. He yawned and stretched out in her arms. That morning she spent time enjoying herself with her baby boy. She fed him, and once he was full, they played. She raced matchbox cars with her son and tickled him until he exploded into peals of laughter. Then he watched his favorite TV show, singing along to the music. Rowena watched him smiling to herself as she saw him happy. She kissed him and snuggled him happily. Hearing his singing and laughter lit her up inside. Then, to entertain him, she put on a puppet show with his stuffed animals to see him smile. The morning flew by, and before she knew it it was time for lunch. She fed her son some mashed fruit and ate a chicken caesar salad. Then, when lunch was over and her son was full, she read him a story until he was asleep in her arms. She gently settled him into his crib, turned on the baby monitor, and then went to make herself some tea in the kitchen.

When she was gone, Angus chose then to strike. He landed lithely on the floor, and covered the baby's nose with chloroform to knock him out before flashing out of the room.

When Rowena went back in to check on him, she saw that her baby was gone.


	37. Chapter 36

**Author's Note: I AM SO SO SORRY FOR THE LACK OF UPDATES GUYS. Between a seven day work week, trips to the hospital, and a nasty cold, I just haven't had the time to get these chapters done. Hopefully that should be the end of the hiatus, but I apologize in advance if there are any more. I hope you enjoy this chapter!**

The most primal kind of terror settled into Rowena MacLeod's stomach as she stared at the empty crib where her son had once lain. All that was left was his teddy bear and blanket. She picked up the bear and held it in her arms, shellshocked by it all.

"He's gone." She said to no one in particular.

Then, adrenaline rushed through her system, urging her to do something. She ran out of the room, shrieking for help. She scrambled to find her cell phone. She had the Winchester's on speed dial. Sam was the one to pick up.

"Rowena?"

"Moose, get down here now. My son is missing!" She shrieked. The panic edged in her voice let Sam Winchester know that this was no joke. He jolted up in his chair and almost knocked it over.

"We'll be right there." He assured her. She hung up her phone and stared at it, agonizing over her son's impending demise. In a fit of rage she chucked it across the room and screamed at the top of her lungs. She bolted toward her bedroom, flinging the door open and shut. She knocked over the books she had there and sent them crashing to the floor. She clutched at her head, sobbing in great heaves as she tried to cling to her last shred of dignity. She happened to glance a bit to her left and saw the mirror that hung on the back of her door. In it, she saw a reflection that she was certain wasn't hers.

The woman in the mirror had her face, but She had one hand stroking the hair of a brown haired little boy whose head leaned on her stomach as he clung to her, brown chocolate eyes seemed to stare into her soul. She screamed as loud as she dared, and ran towards the image. She slammed her fist into the mirror, beating her fists as the glass fractured and split further with every further pounding. When the anger faded, leaving her depleted and numb, she realized that her hands were bleeding from the glass. The adrenaline that had pounded through her initially had made her completely unable to feel the damage she was sure she had done to her body. She felt herself breathing heavily, and knew logically that she had done serious damage to herself and that she shouldn't have acted so irrationally, but it didn't seem to matter. Not with her baby in danger. Feeling a sense of complete disconnect from her body, she went into the bathroom to wash her hands. She cleaned the blood off of her knuckles and bandaged them, when suddenly she was faced with a new dilemma altogether.

Lurking innocently by the sink was her toilet.

For a very long moment, she stared at it. Images of past purging flashed through her eyes, one after another like dominos toppling over in a line. Her fingers twitched.

The doctors at the hospital had given her instructions for moments like these. They had made her practice a hundred times so that when they did come up when she was in the real world, she would be prepared. She ticked off the steps on her fingers one by one.

Identify the feelings and emotions

Recognize thought distortions and negative self talk

Speak positive affirmations until the urge is gone

Call a therapist if urges continue

Take medications as prescribed

She tried to begin the steps, but the feelings and emotions she had were so jumbled and mixed together that she couldn't tell where one ended and another began. She was so frightened by the thoughts in her mind that she was shaking, clutching the sink to keep herself upright. There were things she had to do now, she knew. She wasn't going to find her son by standing there and wallowing in her own misery and guilt. She had to go on.

"Come on." She whispered to galvanize herself into action. She let go of the sink and looked at her room. It was destroyed and a complete mess. She swept up the glass shards on the floor, careful not to miss a piece. When her baby boy came home she couldn't let him get cut by that. She swept the remains into a trashcan and left the rest of the room be. There was no point in cleaning the rest. Not yet, at least. When she dumped the glass chips into the trash, she stood there for a moment, listless. What was she to do now?

Her legs carried her back into the nursery, looking for any sign or signal of what might have happened to her son. Her eyes scanned the room, lasers searching for a hair out of place. She found herself drawn to the crib, magnetically pulled toward it. She stared inside. Left inside were his beloved blanket and bear. She lifted the blanket from the crib and lifted it to her nose. It still smelled like her son, and was still warm from sleep. She had barely missed him. She held the scrap of fabric to her chest as she felt tears sting her eyes. She put one hand on the crib railing as the tears she had tried so hard to restrain flowed freely and cried. She just wanted a good life for her son, and just when she had begun building it, he was snatched from her in an instant.

It could be over so fast.

Slowly, she regained her composure. The time for breaking apart and feeling too much could come later when her baby was safe in her arms. For now, she had a job to do. She stroked the furry face of his teddy bear.

"Don't worry, Fergus. Mummy's coming." She swore. She would not let him go without a fight. The sound of her doorbell ringing pulled her away from her thoughts. She gave a small nod to the nursery, and then went to welcome the Winchester brothers into her home.


	38. Chapter 37

Rowena stood as still as Dean and Sam searched the nursery, but she doubted that the two of them would find anything if she hadn't. Her eyes were sharp as could be. Seeing the Winchester brothers tear apart the nursery that she had created specifically for her son was a punch to the gut for her, despite it being for a good cause. Seeing them throw the blanket on the floor was the straw that broke the camel's back, and tears came flooding from her eyes as she pulled the last thing he had touched into her arms, sobbing quietly. Sam and Dean heard the cry and gave one another a look before continuing on their raid.

Then, in the midst of the chaos, Rowena's cell phone began to ring.

Wiping her eyes, Rowena stared at the unknown number before answering.

"Hello?"

"Mummy?"

She drew in a sharp breath. Suddenly her every instinct was in high alert. She pushed the button and put her phone on speaker.

"Fergus? Sweetheart? Are you okay? Where are you?"

"I don't know..." His voice was small and still sleepy. Clearly this had been a rude awakening for him too. The words were a frightened squeak, a far cry from the happy child she had put down for a nap just a few short hours ago. "I'm scared…"

The words broke her heart, and she tried to swallow the lump in her throat.

"Don't you worry, baby. Mummy's coming. I'll be there as soon as I can."

All of a sudden she heard the sound of skin hitting skin and heard her baby start to wail. Her stomach roiled in open revolt. Who the hell would slap an innocent little boy like her baby? The question was answered by a throaty chuckle that was burned in her memory from three hundred years before. She felt fear ice her blood.

"Angus." The word slipped through her lips, a gentle whisper covered in terror.

"Hello, Rowena." He greeted. She felt anger sweep through her in a rush.

"You give me back my baby you son of a-"

"Ah, ah, ah, language." He chided. "There are children present."

"Where. Is. My. Son?" She demanded.

"That's not important." He said.

"It's important to me." She replied.

"I'm very aware of that." He said. "Which is why I'm not telling you where he is. If you want to try and figure out where he is, be my guest. But I've set up markers all along the city. I will see every move you make. And the closer you get to him, the more I will hurt him, and I will make sure that it seems like it was your fault, so that by the time you do find him, he won't have anything to do with you."

"You wouldn't dare." She hissed.

"Try me." He challenged.

For a moment, her bravery faltered and she could only let a whisper out. "What do you want from me? Why do you want my son? Tell me what you want Angus, and I'll find some way to get it to you. But please, leave him alone. Please." Her voice was raw with emotion.

"I want what I've always wanted Rowena: You. It's been three hundred years, but I still want you. You should be flattered."

But she wasn't flattered. She was sickened to her core. She was a pawn in a psychopath's game, and her son was now one too. She had put him in danger, and even worse she had led him in the fray by keeping them in both in the same place. She dug her nails into her palm with such ferocity that she was almost sure she was going to draw blood.

"So if you get me, my son goes free. Is that right?"

"Yes."

"Why the hell should I believe anything you say? You lied to me for our entire relationship. Why should I think you've changed?"

"Because I have no use for your brat. Only you."

"And what will happen after you have me?" She asked.

"I'll leave that to your imagination." He said. A dozen images filled her mind. Rape. Torture. Violence. Servitude. Death. Nothing nearly as painful as losing her child.

"Fine. I'll come." She said, breathing in and out.

Sam and Dean stared at her a long moment, mouths agape. She could hear his smile over the phone and it gave her goosebumps.

"Excellent. I'll see you when you get here."

"Wait!" She shouted before he could hang up. He put the phone to his ear.

"Yes?"

"Let me talk to my baby. Just for a minute."

"Very well." He grumped, and held the phone to Crowley's ear, while he cried.

"Momma! Momma! Momma!" The word was wailed over and over. Each time he said it was a knife to her chest.

"Mummy's coming Fergus. Don't you worry, sweetheart. Mummy's coming. And then you'll be home with your bear and you're blanket before you know it. Be strong for me, baby boy. I love you." She said.

The line went dead.

"You're fucking nuts to go near that wackjob." Said Dean. Sam elbowed his brother in the ribs, even though he was silently thinking the same thing.

Rowena's eyes cut into his soul, and stopped his words. "I have to save my son. No matter what it takes."

With that, she exited the nursery and went to begin the process of tracking her baby down and finding Angus so she could give him a piece of her mind. Angus' words flashed in her mind, points of light in the darkness that was slowly consuming her as she tried to find reasons not to go back to her old habits. She tasted copper pennies in her mouth as she rushed to get to her computer and start getting a location on Fergus. Through it all, one lone phrase kept echoing through her head, glowing there like neon:

She wasn't letting her baby go without a fight.


	39. Chapter 38

Just after the call ended, Rowena logged onto her computer. The first step would obviously be tracking Angus down, but how could she do that without him being on the phone. She kicked herself for not thinking of that while she was actually on the phone with him. However, Sam, clever as he was, used a tracing program found online to backtrace the phone number that he called her from and find his location that way. The hope that burst open inside of her was almost overwhelming, and Rowena could have kissed him. She didn't of course, but she could have. She impatiently drummed her fingers on the chair where Sam sat as she watched over his shoulder. Finally, after an eternity of waiting, they got a location.

"1237 Brooke Street in Hell, Michigan." Said Sam. Rowena rolled her eyes.

"Of course that's where he is…" She said, putting a hand over her eyes. She ran into the nursery and started packing a diaper bag for when they got there. However, speaking of getting there…

"How are we getting there?" She asked Sam.

Dean was the one who answered. "We're taking the Impala."

Rowena gave an unladylike snort. "Absolutely not."

"Excuse me?" Asked Dean.

"Angus would know that car. We have to use a different one to make sure he can't track us. If we do Fergus could get hurt."

"Woah there, Elphaba, We are not leaving my baby stranded in Oz, got it?"

"Put a sock in it, squirrel. My son trumps your car any day. If something happens to your car I'll personally fix it. But we have to go now." She ordered.

Dean eyed her suspiciously. They locked gazes for a moment, both trying to stare one another down before Dean relented.

"Fine. But one scratch on her and I won't hesitate to gank you."

"Fine, now come on, let's get moving!" She said.

The three of them exited her apartment and exited hell before they got up to the surface. The exit was about a half mile walk from the nearest place to rent-a-car. Rowena walked in the humid air and felt stuffy. She definitely picked the wrong day to wear heels. Finally, they made it. She paid an obscene amount of money on her credit card, and then followed the representative to a bright red 2013 Ford Focus. Dean was about to grab the door handle when Rowena flung the door open and got in the driver's seat.

"In the back, squirrel. Moose needs to be up front to help me navigate."

"I'm sorry, did you just inadvertently ask me to ride the bitch seat?"

"I paid for the car, I'm driving. You can come or your can stay. I don't care either way, but you need to decide now because I'm leaving."

Dean mumbled something under his breath before getting into the backseat of the car.

Rowena smirked, turned on the radio, and sped out of the parking lot. She made sure to ask the salesman for a car with tinted windows. She said it was to help keep the humid Michigan heat out of the car, but really it was because she didn't want Angus to be able to track their movements as he once could.

They drove for over an hour, Sam navigating the roads and Rowena driving, desperately trying to keep her mind focused on the task of driving. Gas, break, turn, stop, go, repeat. Still, her mind drifted back to other things. Fear for her child, fear and anger about Angus' actions, knowledge that she was on her way to save her son.

Her hands unconsciously gripped the steering wheel tighter as the voice of Mia began to seep into her thoughts. Visions of purging, of binging, of feeling a sort of release flooded her sight. She felt her heart begin to pound at the thought, but then remembered the steps she promised to follow when the thoughts became too much.

When the sign for Brooke street came, lined with empty buildings and few but dying plants, Rowena felt her heart leap into her throat. She parked the car two buildings away, near the back entrance. She got out of the car, feeling herself grow goosebumps despite how hot it was outside. She turned to face the Winchester brothers and they stared at one another for a very long moment.

"I have to go in by myself." She said. "When I get to Fergus, I'll send him out here. You will take him back to my home, and you will not let him out of your sight until I return. If neither of us are back after fifteen minutes, come in and try and find us. But if it comes down to it and you can only save me or him, you will save my child first. Do you understand me?" She asked, staring at both of them with an intense, burning gaze. They saw the raw emotion in her eyes, and heard the seriousness in her voice. They both nodded at her, for once on her side. Rowena gave them a fleeting smile that was almost sincere enough to be considered real. But somehow it lost it's sparkle. Rowena gave them a nod, and they reciprocated. Then, she turned on her heels. She was getting her son back, one way or another.

She took in a long breath, then let it go. This was her time. She began the process of walking to building 1237, being careful to avoid any possible cameras that Angus could have hid and had lurking around. Then, after a seemingly endless walk, she made it. The numbers on the building were faded, almost transpareent. If her vision hadn't been so sharp, she might have missed it. Then, her hand reached out to the handle on the door. Everything inside of her said that this was a bad idea, but she could not back down.

She pulled open the door and walked inside.


	40. Chapter 39

Rowena felt her heart begin to pound as she snuck into the warehouse. It was hammering in her chest so loudly that she was sure that everyone could hear it. Her eyes adjusted to the dark room, and everything seemed to be covered in green. She stood still only a moment so her eyes could sharpen before continuing on. The warehouse seemed to be a maze of hallways, and she wondered how she was going to find her son in this madness. She stuck close to the walls, careful to avoid any cameras. Slowly, she weaved her way in and out of rooms, but it was like being in a room with a million doors. There was no indication of where her son could be. It was driving her mad.

Then, she heard it. The cry that had changed her life. Her eyes widened and she stopped breathing for a moment before she started running full speed toward the sound. The spark of love inside of her was raging into a fire that would not be put out. No one was going to stop her from saving her baby. She saw a broken window and climbed up onto the ledge. Looking down, she saw her son in a crib, with two demon body guards watching him. She made a mental note to figure out where on earth Angus had made friends with demons when he had only been in hell a short time. But that could wait until later. She had to do something now.

Her mind formulated a plan, and she jumped from the window into the building. She made almost no noise as she landed. She distracted the guards with a spell that made noises around the warehouse. Then, quietly as a mouse, she whispered an incantation that would levitate Fergus from the crib. She would make sure that both of them got out right now. Angus wouldn't get his hands on either of them. Carefully, she made sure she silenced his cries before levitating him over the bars and toward her. He was two feet from her arms when the guards finally turned around.

"Hey! Stop her!" One shouted. She closed the two feet between them and snatched Fergus into her arms, Stabbing one of the demons in the stomach as she went by. Then, something exploded in the warehouse, and the resulting shockwaves caused Rowena to be thrown backward against the wall. Her body curved protectively over the infant in her arms as she looked up in a daze. Reality came back to her in a rush and she scrambled to her feet, Running for her life and her son's. she didn't care that her legs were burning, or that her dress had torn at some point during the trip. Her son was all that mattered now. She was ten feet from the exit when someone suddenly grabbed her and put something around her neck. Her breath caught in her throat.

It was a witchcatcher.

Angus came out of the shadows of the warehouse and handed her a knife, smiling wickedly.

"Take this and kill your son."

"What?! NO!" She screamed, but her traitor arm was already reaching for the knife. Tears started leaking from her eyes as her arm reached higher and higher, preparing to strike, but it trembled, her will to save her child battling with the will of the witchcatcher to do as she was told.

Then, just as she was about to move her arm, Fergus' eyes opened and she froze. His bright brown eyes were looking up at her, just as they had the day he was born. In that instant she saw the reality of the situation. The spark, a raging fire before, was now a meteor, it covered everything and everything. The love inside of her for her child multiplied a thousand fold every instant, and it made her realize that she was wrong. Love wasn't weakness. Love was strength. And her love for her son was stronger than any object.

The knife was still in the air. Barely a second had passed. Everything looked the same, but Rowena was completely different. She brought the knife down in a shining arc, but turned so it stabbed Angus in the stomach instead of her son, killing him instantly. In the background of the warehouse she heard herself whispering a spell of her creation to cast out demons, and One of the Winchesters was getting the witchcatcher off of her. But it was like she was watching the scene from outside of her own body. She realized dimly that she must have been in there for more than fifteen minutes if they were there. When she was finally free, she looked down at her son, and put a hand on his cheek. He cuddled into her happily, wrapping his hand around her index finger as she bounced him gently in her arms, and a smile stretched across her face. She kissed him on the forehead.

"It's alright, Fergus. Mummy's right here, and I'm not going anywhere. I promise."

She began to sing to him, a gentle melody that she had heard so many years ago. Fergus was still clinging to her, hands fisted into her dress. She knew he wasn't going to let go anytime soon, but that was okay. She didn't want to let him go either. She saw that he was sleepy, and gently bounced him and rocked him in her arms. She could feel the adrenaline that had surged through her body in an intense rush of pure power begin to deplete her. Her arms, legs, hands, and feet had begun to tingle with the feeling of exhaustion, but she kept up her melodious song until her son was completely asleep in her arms. Then, when Dean and Sam had finished their job and every single demon in the warehouse was confirmed to be dead, The four of them headed back out to the car and went home.


End file.
